


The Art of Personal Transfiguration

by Wild_Roses



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Developing Friendships, Enemies to Friends, Explicit Language, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Tragic Romance, semi-reformed Draco
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-04-05 01:11:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 20
Words: 28,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14032872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wild_Roses/pseuds/Wild_Roses
Summary: Grieving the death of Sirius, who had been like a brother, Tonks pursues her love and forges a surprising friendship. Remus loves her, she knows. He just won't accept her love. Her cousin Draco reaches out, looking for a friend. Both men are in dangerous positions. As is Tonks. With the war controlling their lives, they each fight for those they love.





	1. Grief

Nymphadora Tonks stared blankly into the mirror. This wouldn’t be the first memorial service she’d ever attended. No, she’d attended several over the years. More since becoming an Auror. None of them felt near so important as today’s, though.

With a crinkle of her nose she turned her hair a warm chestnut brown. She wasn’t even sure what her natural hair colour was, it was the one part of her that had changed incessantly from the moment she was born. The brown was a safe bet, she figured- the colour of her mother’s hair. Her skin tone, facial features and dark eyes were easier, they always remained the same unless she’d morphed them with a specific design in mind. Today she wanted to feel simply herself.

She grabbed her navy dress robes from where they lay on top of the riotously coloured quilt that graced her parent’s guest bed. She’d spent the week with Andromeda and Ted, not wanting to return to her own cramped, grey flat. Navy was a good choice, she nodded at her reflection. Sirius would have understood the tongue in cheek meaning behind flouting the traditional memorial colour.

Taking a deep breath, Tonks reached for the doorknob and paused a moment. She felt as if she were bound by ropes, constricting slowly tighter with each passing minute. Her mother’s grief was beyond anything Tonks had ever seen. Sirius had been the only family Andromeda had ever felt true kinship to. And she had lost him for so many years. Though, Tonks knew, her mum had never truly believed Sirius capable of the crimes with which he had been charged.

Tonks, also, had never known a grief such as this. Sirius had become like an older brother to her over the last year. She’d had dinner with him a minimum of twice a week. They had delighted in one another’s black sense of humor. Black as in dark, of course, not as in _The Great and Noble House of Black_. Finally steeling herself, she opened the door and shuffled down the hall.

Reaching the landing she saw Remus Lupin in the entryway at the base of the staircase, looking heart-wrenchingly defeated. He glanced up as she began to descend towards him.

“Nymphadora,” he greeted quietly, face pale.

“Remus,” she nodded gently.

She typically berated him for using her given name. Not today. Instead she wrapped her arms around his neck and clasped him to her. Remus stiffened for a moment, holding himself so tightly he swayed a little as she tightened her grip. Hesitantly, he returned her embrace. Then he began to shake with tears. 

Eventually, Andromeda came searching for them and, wrapping them both under her arms, guided them out to the back garden. It was a stunningly sunny day, the sky a piercing blue. It was far, far too bright. Too beautiful. Too alive.

A few photographs in simple, silver frames were set upon a table at the back of the yard. Young Sirius and Andromeda sitting beside one another, eyes smirking at the camera as, in sync, they filled their mouths with muggle-style burgers. Sirius with his arms wrapped around James and Remus, all bending over laughing. And one of Sirius holding Tonks at age two, her hair the flaming pink she’d always favoured. Wizarding photos made the memories hurt more, Tonks thought. There was something more peaceful about the unmoving muggle photos she had of her paternal grandparents. Seeing Sirius’s delighted grin widen as he bounced her giggling, toddler fat jiggling, nearly brought Tonks to her knees.

Every photo was from before. Before Azkaban.

Azkaban had nearly destroyed Sirius, Tonks knew. It made her sick knowing that Sirius, whom she had loved so very much, had been so destroyed for a crime he had not committed. It was nearly as horrific as condemning an innocent to the Kiss. It was the only thing that made her work hard to swallow. No matter what someone had done, Tonks felt resolutely, they did not deserve Dementors.

The population of her parent’s little garden quickly grew. Mostly members of the Weasley clan. But there was also Dumbledore, Kingsley and several other members of the order. Molly Weasley gave Tonks an warm, squishy hug. Her boys awkwardly clapped her on the shoulder. Ginny reached out and squeezed her hand gently. Tonks always did like that girl.

Tonks’s legs were knocked out from beneath her and a pair of well muscled arms caught her. She turned to glare up at Mad-Eye, his normal eye glinted mischievously.

“Fuck off, Mad-Eye.”

“Tonks,” he said softly, righting her and holding her upper arms gently in his large hands. “He wouldn’t have been able to live with himself if he hadn’t gone and it’d been someone else hurt. You take after him, you know.”

“I know,” she whispered, voice cracking as her mentor pulled her in for a gruff hug.

Moving to take her seat she listened to her mother deliver a stirring eulogy. She’d had no idea that Sirius had been the one to give her mum the encouragement to marry her dad. He’d run away from home and been burned off the glorious Black tapestry shortly after Andromeda had been. She hadn’t known so many things, she realized. It wasn’t fair.

Remus stood to speak next, silent tears washing down his scarred cheeks. Sirius had been a brother. He’d gone to such lengths to be there. Always.

And then it was her turn. Tonks stood, trembling slightly, in front of the small group of people who had known the Sirius beyond the twisted fucking news headlines. The people who had known he was good. So very, honestly good.

She told them Sirius’s favourite joke. The one about the vampire and the veela. It was highly inappropriate. It went over very well. Molly Weasley, though, clamped her hands firmly over Ginny’s ears. No matter, Tonks would tell Ginny the joke later.

“And…” Tonks said, realizing something as the laughter died down, “Sirius would’ve fucking hated to see me standing here with my hair like this.” She wrinkled her nose and turned it hot pink. Then she turned and collapsed into her mother’s arms.

“Much better,” Dromeda whispered, running her hand over her daughter’s hair.

~~~

Twilight brought the temperature down a few degrees, thank Merlin. It had been a stifling day. Everyone had gone, by now. Tonks sat on the steps to the garden, picking at the peeling blue paint beneath her. She didn’t glance back as she heard the door open behind her and footsteps approach. 

Face turned up, watching stars begin to flicker into sight in the dusty blue of the sky, she sighed heavily, “Hullo.”

“How are you holding up, Nymphadora?”

Tonks glanced side long at the man as he settled to sit next to her. Gods, he looked weary. “I’m alright, I suppose. You?”

“Lonely.”

Remus placed his hands behind him and leaned back, studying the sky. They sat in silence for some time, as darkness descended. 

“Sirius,” Remus remarked quietly, pointing the star out.

Looking away from the sky, Tonks inspected Remus’s expression for a moment. “Harry should have been here today,” she stated.

Remus met her eyes. For a moment Tonks wondered how his pale green eyes could hold so much in their depths. Then he replied, “I do not think I have ever been so angry in my life. And I have been through some truly infuriating experiences.”

“I’m sorry. I know how much you loved him. How much you love Harry.”

“Harry couldn’t leave the safety of his aunt’s home, apparently. Let’s go for a walk,” Remus said abruptly. He stood and reached down, pulling her to her feet. “I feel rather as though I might break something if I do not move.” 

Tonks swung open the garden gate and gestured for Remus to go ahead. He kept up a pace that was very nearly a run. Relief settled over her as her legs began to burn. Remus slowed slightly as he realized he wasn’t at all familiar with their surroundings. Tonks grasped his hand gently and picked their pace back up. She led him to rolling hills on the outskirts of the town. When they reached her favourite spot, a hill top that was bare except for the skeleton of an ancient, lightening struck tree, Remus pulled his hand free. He strode to the tree and gave it a solid kick. Followed by several more. Then a punch for good measure.

“Fuck,” He hissed, shaking out his hand and glaring up at the moon. It had begun it’s waxing phase.

“Remus,” Tonks said softly, taking a few steps towards him.

He whirled to face her, looking in that moment like a wild creature. 

“Harry should have been here!” he shouted. “And Dumbledore never should have kept Sirius as locked up as he did! And he should have told Harry the Goddamned truth! If he had then Harry would not have been so easily lured by _them_!”

Remus ripped at his hair before continuing to yell, “And I- _I_ spent _twelve years_ believing he betrayed us! And I loved him.”

Remus’s voice dropped to a whisper with the last sentence, then broke, and he sank to the ground. Tonks stepped lightly towards Remus and slipped down next to him. She had changed into a pair of muggle shorts after the memorial and grass poked at her thighs. Reaching out, she wove her arms around him as sobs began to wrack through her as well. She wasn’t sure how long they sat there before Remus whispered her name.

Pulling away slightly so she could look at him, Tonks found herself breathless. The intensity in Remus’s eyes was like nothing she’d ever had directed at her. She’d seen it, though. In her parent’s eyes. In the looks shared by Molly and Arthur Weasley.

And then his lips met hers and brought fire roaring through her. It took her only a moment to recover from the shock and return the embrace eagerly, desperately. She reached up to cup his face in her palms and his grip tightened around her waist. His cheeks were wet with tears. Merlin, how right this felt. How right it was to take comfort in one another.

Remus jerked away. His eyes were wide, the wild look that had drained out with his yelling and tears was back. Infinitesimally different, though. Less anger, more fear.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped, standing.

Tonks jumped to her feet, holding her hands out cautiously, “Remus…”

Remus gave his head a tight shake and apparated away.

~~~


	2. Apologies

“ _Fuck,”_ Tonks cursed, scuffing the ground with her toe. Remus had looked nearly suicidal in the moments before he’d left. Before he’d left her. She quickly considered all her options at present.

_Mad-Eye._ On shift, no good. _Mum_. No, she’s already burdened enough. _Arthur._ Yes, that would be the ticket. While Arthur and Molly had not known Remus during the first war- they had not attended Hogwarts at the same time, and the Weasley’s had not been in the Order previously- Molly’s brothers had been in the Order with Remus before their deaths. And Arthur had been one of few wizards who had accepted Remus unreservedly. Remus trusted him, Tonks knew. 

She sent her patronus- a jack rabbit- back home to let them know where she’d gone before apparating to the Burrow.

~~~

Arthur found him in the Bacchanalian Boggart, a dismally dingy pub in Knockturn Alley. Remus was slumped over the greasy counter, cradling a chipped glass of cheap fire whiskey. Arthur sat himself in the stool next to Remus very matter-of-factly and waved for the barmaid to bring him an acrid drink of his own.

“There’s a very worried young woman in my kitchen right now,” Arthur remarked.

Remus grunted, eyes focused on a crack in the counter that looked like a posturing viper. Arthur hummed in reply and took a swig of his whiskey.

Choking the contents of his glass down, Remus said, “I fucking kissed her, Arthur. I’m such a gods forsaken mess.”

“She seems to be under the impression that you might be a bit of a risk to yourself tonight.”

Remus glanced sharply at his companion, understanding his meaning.

“If I were of a type to take my own life, I would’ve done so long ago. Trust me.”

“I do,” the man replied simply.

“I’d better apologize to her, I suppose.” Arthur shrugged. “Maybe by owl. I’m enough of a coward for that, I think.”

“I don’t see why you should feel any need to apologize. You are both grieving.” Arthur had taken on the affect of a wizened elder. “Why not give it a chance?” 

“Arthur.” Remus blinked at him, “I’m a werewolf. I’m old. And alone. And poor.” 

Arthur shrugged again, Remus could learn to hate that gesture.

“Love is not so simple. My mother you know, was a Black. Her name was burned off that tapestry in Sirius’s living room.” He added with pride, “Since my father was from such a long line of blood traitors, you see.”

Remus twitched an eyebrow up.

“Anyways,” Arthur stood clapping a hand to Remus’s back, “I’ll tell Tonks that you’ll be checking in with her soon, shall I?”

Remus watched him pick his way with ease through the unsavoury crowd in the little pub. The Weasley family certainly was something else. They felt and displayed every emotion fiercely. Their hearts were given freely.

~~~

_~~Cousin~~ _

_Nymphadora Tonks,_

_I just wanted to say I’m sorry about Sirius. I heard you were close. Though I guess no one is supposed to know that, him having been on the run…  I suppose you don’t want to hear from me. Given we’ve never talked and our mother’s don’t, anymore. But… I don’t know. Just wanted to say I’m sorry. It’s been rather terrible listening to Aunt Bellatrix go on, anyways._

_Draco._

Tonks set the letter on the laminate counter and wiped her hands across it to flatten the slight roll in the parchment. An absolutely gaudy owl had delivered it through the little window over her kitchen sink thirty minutes ago. Tonks was still trying to decide how she felt about it.

She’d heard enough about Draco Malfoy from Harry over the last couple of years. He seemed to be just what you’d expect from his name. An elitist bully. But then, she mused, her mother and Sirius turned out very far from what you’d expect from _their_ family. She drummed her fingers atop the letter for a few moments before making a decision and summoning some parchment and a quill.

~~~

Tonks gave an extra pull to the sticky front door of her flat, which finally swung open as she stumbled back. A contrite looking Remus Lupin stood on the other side, in the unrelenting drizzle that had been plaguing London all day.

“Nymphadora,” he greeted hesitantly.

“Remus,” she nodded, stomach tight.

Having regained her balance, she stood to the side and jerked her hand awkwardly towards the interior of the flat, inviting him in. He thanked her in his soft, hoarse voice. Shifting her weight from leg to leg for a moment, Tonks realized she ought to do something hospitable.

“Tea?” she asked, ushering Remus into the overcrowded main room of her flat which served as a kitchen, dining and living room. “Excuse the mess… can’t find I’m really bothered enough to do much about it lately.”

It had been six days since their last encounter. Since the kiss. That, as much as her grief for Sirius, was keeping Tonks from having any motivation beyond that required to go to her shifts for the Ministry. Dumbledore had insisted she take a full two weeks off of her patrols for the Order. He’d said between her injury at the battle and her grief it was important to take time to recover, so as to be of most use. It had enraged her. Almost as much as the fact that the ministry would not offer her grief leave- due, of course, to the fact that they refused to acknowledge Sirius’s innocence.

Remus watched her carefully as she set his tea, over steeped with just a dash of cream as he liked it, in front of him abruptly-it splashed over the sides of the cup. He waited silently as she settled herself with her own sugary cup across the table from him and met his gaze steadily.

“I owe you an apology,” Remus finally voiced. 

Tonks firmly believed that he did, in fact, owe her an apology. Wanting to know his actual motivations for apologizing, however, she asked, “Why?”

Clearing his throat softly, Remus broke eye contact, instead staring at his tea with enough intensity to wandlessly transfigure the mug into a rat if he uttered the correct incantation. Tonks let her eyes close softly for a moment. His visible anxiety affected every part of her. She so wanted to hold him as she had the night of the memorial.

“I frightened you,” he said after a moment. “And I should never have… I should never have kissed you.”

Scoffing, Tonks replied, “I accept your apology for frightening me. It was not ok how you left me like that. I _do not_ accept your apology for the kiss. In case you were too dense to realize, it was reciprocated.”

Remus’s eyes widened slightly and he looked back up at her. _If only this were easier,_ Tonks thought. 

She’d realized in the days since the memorial that she felt far more for Remus than she had for anyone in her life. She was undeniably in love with him, in fact. Sirius had, over the months previous, made several teasing comments that she had always brushed off as infantile attempts to get under her skin. Evidently he was bang on.

Tonks would never be so ridiculous as to claim she didn’t think she had _any_ feeling for Remus. Racing pulses and flipping stomachs were impossible to ignore. That said, she was pretty sure it was just a bit of an infatuation that would, of course, never be returned by the older man. So she had shrugged off any uncomfortable feelings that surfaced and focused on her work.

The thing was… Remus was so kind. And soft spoken. And steadfast. And truly hilarious when he wanted to be. His dry jokes always took Tonks a little by surprise, unexpected as they often were. She had imagined from the stories she had heard that Remus was always a little in the shadows of Sirius and James, but as she’d gotten to know him better, she became certain that he had held his own amongst them.

“All the same,” Remus murmured, “I shouldn’t have done that. You were grieving. It… was inappropriate.”

“ _We_ were grieving,” Tonks corrected, raising her brows.

“Nymphadora,” he warned in his quiet way.

Taking a slurp of her tea, hoping the warmth that settled in her core would calm her, Tonks asked, “Why do you insist on calling me that?”

The question clearly threw Remus off a little. Tonks was certain he had spent the last five days agonizing over how to approach this conversation so it would turn out exactly how he believed it must. He was really quite obstinate.

“I… I think it’s pretty,” he confessed. “And I do think it suits you.”

Rolling her eyes, Tonks said, “You and my mother could be great friends.”

“I doubt it.” Remus began to focus on his tea once more. “I have orders to join Greyback’s camp for the next few months.”

Tonks choked on her tea. Jumping to stand over the kitchen sink, she hacked for a moment, gripping the cool steel edges of the basin. She didn’t turn back to face him before asking, “You _what_?”

Remus did not reply. Tonks returned to the table, pulling her chair around to Remus’s side. It let out an unpleasant screech as it scratched the floor. She pulled his hand away from his mug and held it in her own. It was awfully cold, considering it had been wrapped around the tea.

“Remus, you can’t tell me you intend to do that?”

“Of course I do.” 

“Is- is Greyback not the one who infected you?”

“He is.”

“And you’re going to place yourself in his camp?”

“It is important. I will be able to gain information. Maybe even tip a few members of the camp away from joining forces with the Dark Lord." 

The cursed fluorescent lighting of the kitchen flickered. Tonks knew it was in response to her own magic- she could feel it flaming out of her with her emotions. She focused for a moment on gaining control. Mad-Eye had taught her a breathing technique that usually helped.

After a long moment she replied, “You’re right.”

Turning his face up to hers, Remus nodded. They looked into one another’s eyes, just inches apart. The intimacy of it had Tonks’s heart in a riot.

“If you’re going to leave,” Tonks bit her lip, hesitating, “don’t leave without being honest.”

By the way Remus’s face tightened slightly, Tonks knew he understood her meaning.

He asked anyways, “Honest?”

“Yes,” she whispered, squeezing his hand, “with me.”

Remus let go of her hand, running his own through his greying hair. His lips twisted slightly in dismay.

“I’ll go first,” Tonks said, standing and holding him to his chair with her hands resting softly on his shoulders. She didn’t want to risk him running away again. “I’m in love with you.”

_Should’ve been put in Gryffindor,_ Tonks thought sardonically as she saw her words register with the man. It was as though he was flipping through an encyclopedia of emotions before he pushed them all away and his face went strangely blank. He placed his hands on Tonks’s and peeled them off his shoulders before he stood to face her.

“I… I am no good for you. I-”

“You can shove your ridiculously overdeveloped moral compass up Voldemort’s ass, Remus.”

Tonks was pretty sure she saw his lips twitch with laughter for a moment before Remus’s brow furrowed. “I’m sorry, Nymphadora.”

He walked around her, and once more, left her alone.

~~~


	3. Chances

The banality of her hair was embarrassing. Tonks sighed at Molly as they sat in the kitchen of the Burrow. She’d become quite attached to the space. It was unwaveringly warm. Homey. It was painted a gentle yellow shade. Dried herbs dangled from the roof and a collection of cauldrons was stacked by the hearth. Painted children chased each other around the tea pot that sat on the chipped table between the two women.

“He’s a good man,” Molly said softly. She had taken one look at Tonks in her colourless state and ushered her into the cozy room for some tea.

Tonks tried not to snap at her. She knew that. He was also a complete arse. 

Molly told her of the time last summer that she had encountered the Boggart in Grimmauld Place. How it had morphed from one dead, broken body to the next. One beloved person dead. Two. Three. Her children. Her husband. Tonks felt discomfort squirm its way through her as Molly’s eyes misted. Remus, Molly told her, had been the one to comfort her. To pull her back together. Remus, like Molly, had lost brothers to the first war. Maybe in a different manner, Molly noted, but he knew how it was.

“Give him time, Tonks,” Molly urged gently, “Give him that chance.”

And then Harry arrived early with Dumbledore and it was all Tonks could do to hold it together long enough to leave the Burrow. _No, no thanks to dinner with Remus._ She rushed out to apparate back to her flat, cold and temporary.

~~~

Glancing around and smoothing her hair down once more, Tonks realized she was feeling quite nervous. Writing and asking Draco to meet her had seemed a rather virtuous thing to do when she had done it. Now it seemed more like a vast error in judgement. She just wanted to give the kid a chance, though. She had no cousins close to her in age- given that her mom was estranged from Draco’s side of the family, and her dad had been an only child. She’d grown up hearing about the positive influence Andromeda and Sirius had on one another. Andromeda had been a Slytherin Prefect when Sirius had started at Hogwarts, and while there was a little inter-house tension between the two, Andromeda had always watched over Sirius, Tonks knew. Shouldn’t Draco get the same chance? He had seemed genuinely regretful in his letter. And his father was imprisoned, now.

A polite little cough sounded behind her and she turned to take in the pale, nervous face behind her. Where Tonks was messy paint palette, the boy was a blank canvas. He’d inherited all the Malfoy genes, clearly. None of the dark and brooding Black traits were to be seen. He wore what Tonks imagined was the closest thing he had to muggle clothing- black trousers and a frock coat similar to those Severus Snape wore. A little formal for your typical teenager, Tonks supposed, but gothic fashion was in style at the moment. He wouldn’t stand out in the London streets too much.

“Nymphadora, hello.” Draco sounded nervous.

“Tonks, please,” she requested. “Nymphadora is just awful. Sit.”

Draco looked around furtively, as if guilty of a crime. Tonks had given him directions to the muggle coffee franchise as it was just a few blocks from Diagon Alley, but unlikely to have any patrons that would recognize the two of them.

“Glad you found the place. And me.” She beamed at him.

“You didn’t need to wear the pink hair for my benefit,” Draco said. Tonks had written him to say that it would help him identify her- thank Merlin the mousy colour that descended on her after her last talk with Remus had only lasted a day. “I would have recognized you. My mum would always make such a big fuss about pulling me away from you and your mum if she ever saw you down the lane… I got curious.”

Tonks burst out in laughter, “I was always a little curious, too. Too bad you started at school after I’d finished. And anyways,” she leaned across the table conspiratorially and grinned, “pink’s my favourite. I’m a metamorphmagus, you know.”

“I didn’t. And I guess maybe that would’ve been… something…” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I- I don’t really know why I’m here.”

“For a drink,” Tonks winked and gave her cousin her sunniest smile.

Taking his order- and insisting on paying, as she doubted Draco would have any muggle coins on him- Tonks took a look around the café as she headed to the counter. She quietly cast a super-sensory charm, monitoring for any signs that Draco might not be alone in visiting her. She certainly wouldn’t have Moody castrating her for this later. That said, she never intended to tell him about it.

“So,” she said passing Draco his black tea and sitting back down, “how’s school?”

It took a near hour of awkward small talk before they began to loosen up and really get to know one another. Draco told Tonks of how he generally hated school, though did truly enjoy potions- ‘And not just because Snape tortures Potter,’ he had quipped. Being a Prefect was alright, though he felt sometimes his disposition was a little too irritable for the role. Quidditch was his true passion. He had no clue what he wanted to do after school, which was rather frightening as he had had to pick his NEWT level courses in the spring. He was curious about her position as an Auror- though fairly certain he would not enjoy being in such a role. He was witty, if with a cutting edge to his humour. Tonks mused that he would have had a grand time joking around with Sirius, if the two of them would have been able to move beyond their pride.

Tonks, in turn, told Draco of Professor Sprout having declared that she was too ill-behaved to ever be a prefect. And how she had always wanted to be an Auror- ever since her family had had to go into hiding during the first war. The fact that her mother was from such a prestigious family had made Tonks’s half-blood status even more dangerous, and she had spent from age six to eight in various safe houses. She wanted to help prevent young families from ever having to go through such experiences. 

“It’s getting bad,” Draco said softly, eyes cast down.

Tonks hummed as she assessed his expression. She may not have done well in her Stealth and Tracking training but she had was nearly as talented in Interrogation and Assessment as in Concealment and Disguises. Draco looked ashamed. Ashamed and frightened.

“You must be in rather a tricky spot, eh?” 

He met her eyes, seemingly surprised at her perceptivity. Then he glanced back down and shrugged.

“You still have choices, you know.” 

Scoffing, Draco drained the last of his tea, which must be long cold. “No, I really don’t.”

“Well,” Tonks deliberated- Draco looked as though he was preparing his escape- “if you ever decide you do, you can come find me. It was nice getting to know you better.”

Draco gave a tight nod, “Thanks for the tea.”

He was out the door faster than a bludger hit by the league’s top beater. Tonks stayed at the café for awhile, enjoying the banality of the muggle world and its complete oblivion to the brewing war.

~~~


	4. Confessions

Thank Merlin for Molly Weasley. Tonks smirked at the roster for the night’s Order patrols. Molly had informed Tonks after her visit from Remus that Dumbledore did not intend for Remus to join the werewolf encampment until the beginning of the school year. He wanted to see Harry safely settled into school first. Molly was in charge of organizing the Order’s various tailing, stake-out and patrol duties, being the only member without a day job. And Molly had scheduled Tonks and Remus for shared duty monitoring the Malfoy Manor.

Quiet footsteps pulled her attention from the roster. She turned to beam at Remus.

“Wotcher!”

“Hello Nymphadora.” He sighed softly. “Ready to head out?”

“Just a ‘mo,” she replied cheerily.

Turning to the mirror she pinched her face for a moment, turning her hair black and darkening her complexion a little. As she faced Remus once more she caught an odd expression on his face.

“What?”

He gave a little shrug, smiling slightly, “I like the pink.”

Shaking her head with a warm expression she said, “I know. You only pretend to be old fashioned.” 

At that he gave a hearty laugh, “Sirius used to say the same.”

“Cause it’s true!”

Tonks wrapped her arm around his and pulled him out the door before twisting and disapparating.

~~~

Merlin curse Molly Weasley. Remus sat next to Nymphadora, trying to allow as much space as possible within the cluster of bushes they were hiding within. While they’d disillusioned themselves before approaching the boundaries of the Malfoy property, it was too uncomfortable and a drain on their magic to remain under the charm for a full night. So they’d clamoured through the bracken to a position in the bushes that looked side on to the manor. The sprawling white building was luminescent in the dark night. Torches burnt by both the front and the back entry ways, with large expanses of neatly groomed, lush lawn around the circumference of the home. 

It was cold. He was certain Nymphadora was trying to squish closer. And for more than bodily warmth. Clearly, Remus thought, he should have waited to have their conversation until closer to the date he actually needed to depart. Nymphadora had seemed to take his apology and departure the other night as a challenge. One she might well win.

Of course he had feelings for her. Who was he kidding, he was in love with her too. For the briefest of moments her confession the other night had lit him up. The unanticipated joy he’d felt at hearing she loved him had nearly wiped every concern from his mind. But there were concerns. There were many. And they were inescapable.

Sirius was not the kind of man who you would think of as perceptive. But he had picked up on Remus’s subtle shift of behaviour around Nymphadora Tonks within seconds. He had pulled Remus out of the kitchen of Grimmauld Place the first time they’d all been in the room together. Then he had proceeded to cross his arms and stare at Remus with a horrendously smug expression.

After the return of Voldemort, Dumbledore had immediately begun to put the Order of the Phoenix together once more. Remus had returned from the small sea side town in which he had been scraping by a living, doing hard labour. Recovered from his months in a trunk, Mad-Eye had recruited some new blood from amongst the Aurors. Nymphadora Tonks was his protégée. It had taken a total of one mischievous grin and two cheeky jokes for Remus to realize he was in over his head with the young woman.

Remus had, of course, explained all the reasons that Sirius’s smug expression was inappropriate. Sirius had shrugged them all away, only instructing Remus not to jerk his little cousin around. Sirius was very fond of her, having spent considerable time babysitting her until she was five or six, when the war had ended and Sirius was imprisoned.

“Here’s Draco,” Nymphadora whispered, interrupting Remus’s reflections. “Ridiculous they don’t have any vision obscuring wards up, isn’t it?”

Remus shrugged, “They want to appear innocent.”

They watched silently as the boy kicked around the expansive back gardens of the manor for awhile before returning to the house.

“Poor kid,” she murmured. 

Remus frowned, “From what I remember he’s rather a bully. Harry says he hasn’t changed much.”

Tonks lifted one shoulder carelessly, “I met him for tea the other day. He wasn’t much but scared.”

Before he was aware of it, Remus had his hand clamped around her forearm, “You _what_?”

An indignant expression lit her face as she tugged her arm from him. She cast a silencing charm before turning to Remus and saying, “I met him for tea. He sent me a letter after Sirius… He’s unhappy. And scared.”

“That- Nymphadora- that is _ridiculously_ dangerous. I can’t believe you did that.”

“He’s my cousin.”

“He’s a Death Eater in training! He could be trying to spy on you. He could be trying to _kill_ you!”

Remus knew he needed to control himself. Typically, he wouldn’t say a word without careful consideration. He certainly wouldn’t normally shriek at someone as he had just done to Nymphadora.

He closed his eyes for a moment, opening them again as Tonks retorted, “I am not a child, Remus. I am a trained Auror. I would not endanger myself. I would certainly not endanger the Order. And I felt it was appropriate to give him a chance. If you lot hadn’t given Sirius a chance, he might well have become a Death Eater. He was lucky enough to make some actual friends in school. My mom wasn’t- she turned out alright anyways, I think.”

Remus sighed, she wasn’t wrong. The thought of her putting herself in such a position still made him feel sick, though. “Just… Just be careful.”

She pursed her lips, looking down to the ground, “I’m not entirely sure why you care.”

Remus had been so amazed by her cheerfulness when they’d set out for the evening that he was fairly certain Tonks had not been too deeply affected by his rebuff the other night. Which was certainly for the best. She just had a crush, was all. Sure, she was clearly intent on pursuing him for now but she was not _truly_ in love. He would go away and she would find someone younger. _Perfect_ , he had thought bitterly. 

Glaring up at the sky for a moment, Remus, before he had a chance to change his mind for the better, said “I love you is why I care.” 

Tonks barked out a laugh that was reminiscent of Sirius. “So all it took was me being pissed off at you? Compassion, reassurance, confessions of love? No matter. One snarky remark and there you have it?”

Remus growled low in his throat, “This doesn’t change anything Nymphadora.” 

“The only reason it doesn’t change anything is because we both knew it was true already.” She turned to face him and brushed a lock of his hair away gently. “You are a stubborn git.”

“I am a werewolf. A literal monster, Nymphadora. Five days from now you won’t be able to sit next to me at this time of night. Beyond that, I am poor. And old.”

“As far as I can see the only thing in our way is how cursed obstinate you are.”

Remus shifted away, turning to focus on the manor again.

“I love you,” Nymphadora whispered, slipping her hand into his own.

He couldn’t help but give it a squeeze back. Hearing those words affected him quite as much as it had the first time.

~~~


	5. Possession

Cursing, Remus slipped the parchment from the foot of Severus’s familiar, rather intimidating Great Horned Owl. Just a slip of parchment, no parcel containing potions. He read the spiky script expressing regret that there was a national shortage of monkshood. Severus was on the wait list, he assured. It was not an infrequent problem, but Remus had been hopeful that for this last month before he joined Greyback he could be spared.  He gave the owl a treat and an affectionate pet before she flew back to her master.

The following night, Remus let himself into the dank cellar of Grimmauld Place. Dumbledore had confirmed that it had been inherited by Harry, Remus figured his continued use of the space wouldn’t be an issue with the boy. Sirius had set it up for Remus last year. There was a small hearth that struggled to keep away the dampness which never failed to chill Remus to his bones. The fire always burnt out well before he transformed back, but Remus set it to burning anyhow. A shredded mattress lay in one corner of the room. Remus slumped over to it, after locking and warding the door, and waited for the moon to rise.

The year that Remus taught at Hogwarts, he’d often visited with young Ginny Weasley. She’d struggled with the effects of her traumatic experience the year prior more than she let on. Remus had found her once, after the damned Dementors had crashed the quidditch game, shivering as she paced the halls. He’d brought her to his office and supplied her with chocolate and mint tea. She’d tearfully described being possessed to him, and how no one could possibly understand.

But Remus did.

He’d listened to her description and barely been able to restrain a shudder- it was so much like his own transformations. Waking up and not knowing what had happened. But knowing it was nothing good. Sometimes, he could remember the initial moments. The way his muscles felt as though they were tearing apart. The feral rage that bubbled up in his chest and out of his throat in a snarl. Otherwise, nothing.

Ginny had come to say goodbye to him at the end of that year, before he had left the school. She had surprised him with a tight hug and a whisper that she had _known_ he understood and that she hoped to see him again one day and that he had better take care. 

When he had met her again at Grimmauld Place last summer, she had embraced him and told him she was doing so much better these days. He smiled slightly, remembering Ginny and Hermione in hysterics as Nymphadora flittered through a succession of noses for their entertainment. He had met Nymphadora’s eyes over top of a very Snape like nose and chuckled. Even then he had been falling in love with her.

How was it, he mused, that all these young women could see him for the person he was, and insist on ignoring the monster that he also was? He had never experienced such insistent acceptance from anyone but the Marauders. Hermione had known what he was when he’d been their professor and had kept it a secret for Merlin’s sake. She hadn’t even told Harry who was, at the time, meeting him frequently for private lessons.

But then, Remus thought, _all_ of the Weasley family had been accepting. And Dumbledore, Kingsley and Mad-Eye. He couldn’t ignore, however, that these people- all of whom he’d come to care so deeply for- were the exception.

The reality was what he’d lived from the end of the last war to the beginning of this one. Living in fear of being exposed. Isolating himself in various country shacks that he’d had to magically seal so his wolf self could not escape and cause harm. Starving as he was unable to hold down continuous employment. Being weary, sick and alone. Once, the morning after a transformation, Remus had been chased out of a small wizarding village by a series of _confrigo_ spells. He hadn’t caused any harm, had been safely locked away throughout the night, but they had heard his howling. _That_ was the norm.

Remus choked back a sob as his muscles began to ache.

~~~

Tonks stumbled, “ _Bloody buggering hell!_ ” 

She had tripped over the god-forsaken troll’s leg umbrella stand. _Again_.

The portrait down the hall began howling. Tonks dropped the bags burdening her and strode down the hall. She shot a curse at the portrait and with a second flick of her wand its curtains swept closed. She kept her wand in hand as she listened to the sound of unsteady footsteps on the creaking stairs to the cellar.

Remus appeared, pale faced and ragged.

“’Lo, Dora,” he said weakly. 

Tonks swept him into her arms. Remus was shaking.

“Good morning, love. I brought you a roast. Barely singed.”

Remus coughed slightly as he allowed Tonks to guide him to the kitchen and settle him into a chair. She left briefly to retrieve her bags before pulling out the container of roast and setting it in front of him with a fork and knife.

“Curtesy of Molly,” she said softly.

She watched, anxious, as he devoured slice after slice barely stopping for a breath. He’d not bothered with the utensils. His clothes were shredded. There was a large laceration in his left forearm. A chunk of his hair was missing just above a scrape to his forehead. He must’ve done it to himself, she realized, feeling sick.

Finally, Remus pushed aside the empty container and looked at her, loathing in his eyes.

“You see now,” he rasped.

“I’m not half bad with healing charms. Give me your arm,” she replied in a no nonsense manner.

He obeyed.

After Tonks had sealed the wound on his arm and the scrape on his face, she ran him a bath and insisted that he soak for awhile. Remus had attempted to protest this, but Tonks fixed him with her best approximation of Molly Weasley’s glare and he had shuffled into the bathroom.

While he was in the tub, Tonks set a fire roaring in the drawing room and settled herself into her favourite armchair. The day was grey and the lighting in the room was dismal, but the fire warmed the scene a bit.

Sirius had told her, a little, of what it had been like for Remus without the potion. And once, in her fourth year at Hogwarts, she had broken into the Shrieking Shack on a dare. She remembered deep claw marks gouged into the thick, wooden door. A traitorous part of her was grateful she had not been in the house the night before. She had not had to listen to him thrashing around the cellar room. She had not had to see him. Gods, it was so unfair. It was so unfair that the man she loved so much had never had a chance. Had been attacked in his home, as a little boy.

When Remus rejoined her, Tonks stood up and wrapped her arms around him. She gave him a slow, soft kiss. Remus returned it.

~~~


	6. Preservation

“Fuck,” Remus pulled away. “Nymphadora!”

“I preferred Dora,” she replied affecting a nonchalant attitude. He could see the hesitation in her eyes, though. 

“I am fucking _dangerous_ , Tonks!”

She winced as he called her Tonks. At least, he was fairly sure she was in denial enough that _that_ was the god-forsaken part of his words that had upset her.

“I’m a bloody Auror, Remus! A good one, too. Or would you argue with Mad-Eye’s judgement?”

“Quite frankly, I _do not care_ ,” Remus retorted. 

“Great!” Tonks snarked. “Me neither!”

Remus growled a little.

“I can make my own decisions, Remus.”

Remus nodded, determining his response. 

“As can I. And I- I can’t risk you, Dora. I can’t.” 

With that he turned away from her and left.

~~~

Draco tugged on his left sleeve nervously. Tonks felt her heart give an uncomfortable pang- she knew what that meant.

“Might actually be too late, now, mightn’t it be?” she asked softly.

Draco had written her shortly after the full moon, wanting to talk again. They’d met at a different muggle café this time, had gotten their drinks to go and begun to stroll through the nearby park. It was a sunny afternoon and their path, a little out of the way and slightly less populated, was pleasantly shaded.

Draco winced and replied, “I didn’t have a choice, Tonks.” 

“No, perhaps not,” she mused. “So now what?”

“I- I can’t talk about it. Nothing good, though. Actually,” Draco began to ramble, “it’s terrible. Really, really terrible. I- I don’t know what to do. I can’t do it. I don’t know. It’s to punish my father, for fucking up at the ministry, you know. I…”

Tonks glanced at her cousin side-long. Tears were glistening in his silver eyes.

“Fuck. Draco…”

“My mum’s not safe,” he whispered. 

Tonks pulled him by the arm under a large tree and furtively cast a silencing charm around them.

“Whatever it is, Draco,” she said, “You need to learn to occlude. Whether you feel you need to go through with it, or not. These thoughts you’re having. And meeting me like this… it will all put you in a lot of danger if he enters your mind. Bellatrix, too.”

Draco let out a strangled laugh and kicked at a tree root. “She tried to grab my cock the other day,” he confessed. 

“Merlin. Mum always told me she had a few important bolts loose.” 

“Mum caught her and hexed her. I’d still rather not be in a room alone with her ever again.”

“I’ll bet. Draco, seriously. Occlumency. Maybe Snape could teach you.”

It was a warm summer day but Tonks was certain she’d never felt so cold in her life. She certainly could not confirm that Snape was working for the Order. But he was Draco’s godfather. And his legilimency abilities were a very poorly kept secret, anyhow.

“I- I can’t trust him, Tonks. I- I certainly shouldn’t be trusting you. Nor you me.”

“I know,” Tonks sighed heavily. “Come here.” 

She pulled Draco into her arms and he clung back tightly, shoulders shaking as he released his tears. 

She left Draco later that afternoon with the promise that she would always do her best to be there if he needed her. She couldn’t make any choices for him. Couldn’t give any recommendations on how to proceed. Certainly she would not encourage him to place himself in a role similar to that of Severus Snape’s. But she did desperately hope that he would make the right choices. That he would not sell his soul to be as damned as that of his new master. That somehow, he would make it out of this.

~~~

Remus was beginning to make a habit of standing repentant before the door of Nymphadora Tonks’s home. It had been weeks since he’d last seen her. Molly had informed him- in a tone bordering on venomous- that Nymphadora had declined joining them for dinner _again_ last week. He sighed resignedly before reaching to knock. A loud crash and subsequent cursing leaked through the door. When Nymphadora managed to open the door, she clung warily to its knob.

She scanned him up and down for a moment before grabbing a black trench coat from a hook next to the door, slipping on her boots and saying, “C’mon, we’re going for a walk.” 

“A walk,” Remus sputtered. She always managed to unsettle him.

He’d been intending on saying a quick goodbye. Nothing more. He just couldn’t bear to leave without a goodbye. He couldn’t bear to leave with anything more, either.

“I’ve noticed a correlation between the times that we spend together outside in the fresh air and the times you’re actually honest about your emotions. So, yes. A walk.” 

Her hair was such a deep burgundy red it was nearly black, today. And it was long. He wanted to reach out and play with a tendril. He fisted his hands into the pockets of his jacket. She took him down to the river. 

Inhaling deeply, Remus realized he could taste autumn in the air. It had always been his favourite season- a time not of death, as some thought, but of rejuvenation. Every year as he returned to Hogwarts he had always been a little surprised to find his three friends tackle him and pull him back into their easy antics. This fall, Remus felt, he would be betraying them all. Their faith in him. Everything he’d ever struggled for.

Eventually, Remus noticed Nymphadora seemed to be waiting for him to speak first. That was fair, he supposed. It took him a few more minutes to work up the nerve. 

“I just had to say goodbye,” he said softly. He then berated himself for not having anything more to say.

“Oh.” 

The leaves on the trees bordering the river were still green, but the late evening light dimmed them a little and as street lights began to flicker on, their undersides acquired a golden hue. An amorous couple strolled in front of them, leaning into one another as they walked. Remus’s hands were freezing in his pockets.

“I leave tomorrow,” he informed her. “I won’t be able to maintain contact with anyone, really. It’s going to be difficult enough to send any type of report out to Dumbledore…”

“I see.” 

Her voice sounded tight. She’d not looked at him this entire time, Remus realized with a squirming in his gut.

“I’m leaving tomorrow as well. I’ll be stationed at Hogsmede for the school year. I’ll be staying at the Hog’s Head.” 

A motorcycle engine revved somewhere nearby, echoing through the city. 

“I just… I couldn’t leave without a proper goodbye,” Remus said desperately.

Dora stopped walking and turned to him. She drew him gently off to the side of the path, close to the wall along the top of the river bank, and stared up at him with her wide, deep eyes. Remus had heard any number of clichés about a woman’s eyes, but Dora’s… he truly thought they might suck him right into her forever.

So softly he could barely discern her words, Nymphadora asked, “What is a proper goodbye?”

Rather than bend to kiss her, he stepped back. She let out a bitter laugh.

“Bye then, Remus.”

She went to turn and walk away. He grabbed her arm, holding her in place. Keeping her body facing away, Dora turned her head slightly back.

“I- I don’t know how to do this,” Remus confessed, feeling as though he were in physical pain.

Whirling around, she snapped at him, “Do what?”

When he held his hands up in hesitant surrender she heaved a sigh, throwing her head back. 

“Remus,” she asked meeting his eyes once more, “Are you so… _scared_ of yourself?” 

He nodded slowly. 

“That breaks my heart,” she whispered.

For awhile they stood in silence, facing one another as the sky dimmed and the city noises grew around them.

“For a good reason, I am, Dora.” 

“I’m scared that joining them will break you.”

Remus had no reply. It might.

Nymphadora stepped towards him and cupped his cheek in her hand. She traced his cheekbone lightly with her thumb. Remus tried not to lean in to her hand. Pulling her hand away, Dora reached for her wand and conjured a thin leather cord. Then she slipped a thick, black lacquered band off her thumb and looped the cord through it. She reached around Remus to fasten it around his neck, and tucked the ring beneath his shirt. She patted it as if to confirm that it had settled against his heart.

“Your muggle ring?” Remus asked feeling unnervingly swamped by the gesture.

“You remember?”

“Of course.”

It had been some 14 months ago, the night before they’d picked Harry up from his aunt’s home just after Voldemort’s return that Remus had noticed the ring. He’d reached for it on her hand unthinkingly and rubbed the band gently. “Is it connected to your metamorphmagus powers?” he’d asked, astounded by the way the ring changed colour. It had turned a bright blue with his touch. Nymphadora had chuckled at him and informed him it was, in fact, muggle technology that could read moods. Something about body temperature.

Months later she’d told him that she’d been given the ring from her muggle grandmother when she was preparing for her first year at Hogwarts. Her grandmother had told her to remember that magic is not just what she’d learn at school, but rather lay in the way people lived with and loved one another. She’d not taken it off since, Nymphadora had shared. 

Remus brought his hand up to meet hers, which she’d left against his chest. She wrapped her fingers through his and took a step closer to him, their hands hovering in between their beating hearts.

“I don’t want you to forget that I love you.”

He grabbed her neck and kissed her firmly. She released his hand, wrapping both of her own in his hair. When Remus pulled away he left his forehead resting against hers. 

“I…” He closed his eyes for a moment, before holding her face in his hands and pulling away so he could meet her eyes steadily, “I love you. Keep yourself safe.”

“You too,” she replied gently, eyes glimmering. She reached up and gave him a soft kiss before walking away.

~~~


	7. Duty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The few lines that Snape speaks to Tonks are directly quoted from HBP.

Her index finger froze as it slipped along the smooth skin of her thumb. Tonks felt a brief moment of panic. Her ring was gone. But, oh yes- it was with Remus. Remus was gone. She’d have to find a new nervous habit, she realized, as twisting her ring round her finger obsessively was no longer an option.

She should be grateful that Kingsley had arranged it so her Magical Law Enforcement position essentially equated her work for the Order. But really, all it meant was she had more free time when she desperately wanted to pack every moment with something that required her to put in her utmost focus. She nibbled the inside of her cheek and began to pace. The Hogwarts Express should be pulling in within the hour. She caught Dawlish’s eye from across the platform and nodded. He was lounging on a bench, relaxed as could be. She felt a little spiteful about it.

She’d had to be the one to walk away last night. Tonks was fairly certain that Remus wouldn’t have been able to. But even if he had been, she was done with him walking away from her. She knew he had to go. She understood why he’d walked away from her so many times before. It might be easier if she didn’t understand. If she could just be angry and hurt.

Mostly, Tonks was just scared. Scared he wouldn’t come back. Scared he would, but would no longer be Remus when he did.

When she’d woken up after her sparse sleep Tonks’s hair had been a lank brown. It had refused to change. She’d nearly popped a blood vessel in her eye with the effort of it. Her built in fucking mood ring.

The train finally chugged up to the station and she was able to push it all aside in favour of focusing on her work. Students began jostling and pushing their way off the train. Ginny Weasley. Ron Weasley. Hermione Granger. _Where the fuck is Harry?_

As the carriages were loaded and began to cart away enthusiastic students, Tonks met Dawlish’s eyes again and signaled for him to start at the far end of the train. She hopped up into the train and raced down the aisle checking each compartment for any signs of Harry. Noting one with the blinds drawn she pulled the door open and was met with the tangy scent of blood. She reached gently below and felt her hands grab fabric. Giving a hearty tug, she greeted Harry with relief.

Shooting Harry with the counter jinx she pulled him to his feet and cursed internally as the train began to rumble. As she tugged him towards a door she saw Dawlish running down the corridor and shot him a sardonic thumbs up.

Turning to face her after they’d landed on the platform, Harry looked embarrassed. _He should be_ , Tonks thought. He surely put himself in a stupidly dangerous position. She asked curtly who did it and fought the urge to howl in frustration when he named Draco Malfoy. These fucking boys were going to drive her mad.

Brusquely she healed Harry’s nose, had him put the cloak back on and then took a moment to dredge something happy up for the conjuring of a patronus. As it shot out and ran off she almost cried. Of course. Of course it changed. She didn’t encourage any of Harry’s conversation as they walked up towards the castle.

Tonks had used to dream of the time in her life when she would never hear the formidable Professor Snape drawl “Miss Tonks” ever again. As he sneered her given name at her instead, she wished for nothing more than a return to the formality. _And here it comes_ , she thought.

“And incidentally, I was interested to see your new Patronus.”

_Fuck off, Snape._

“I think you were better off with the old one. The new one looks weak”

Tonks mumbled a goodbye to Harry and walked stiffly back down the hill. Her fucking _patronus_. She didn’t want him to have this much power over her. 

~~~

“Tonks!”

Draco’s eyes widened in surprise as Tonks gripped his arm tightly. She’d shot him with a confundus after his Herbology class so that he’d turn around and return to the greenhouse, reassuring his friends that he’d catch up after retrieving his unmentioned forgotten item of rather great importance. Then she’d yanked him behind the greenhouse and given his shoulder a good whack. 

“Did you have to break his _fucking_ nose, Draco?” she hissed.

Mad-Eye had often berated her for her poor language. It was something she’d picked up from her dad. Get her angry enough and every other word was fuck. Mad-Eye said that it made her appear less intelligent. Tonks was of the belief that a well placed ‘ _fuck’_ added just the right amount of emphasis.

Draco pursed his lips and crossed his arms, tugging from her grasp in order to do so.

“Saint Potter was asking for it. He was eavesdropping on me.”

Rolling her eyes, Tonks said, “Yes, well. That was excessive. You don’t have to be such a bully, you know.”

Draco scoffed, rolling his eyes in return. “Tonks. _You_ are the one who doesn’t know.”

Clearly he was referencing far more than his volatile relationship with the Boy Who Lived. 

“You could tell me. I could help.”

“Merlin. Fuck,” Draco spat out. “Tonks, you _could not_ help. You could get yourself killed is what you could do. I never should have written you. You just make it all harder.”

Tears welled up in her eyes so quickly there was nothing Tonks could do. They began to pour down her cheeks. Through her blurred vision she could see Draco’s eyes widen.

“Tonks-” He sputtered, reaching out a hand to pat her gently.

“God, Draco. Calm down would you? I’m _fine_.”

She wiped angrily at her eyes while Draco continued to awkwardly pat her arm. Glaring towards the Forbidden Forest, Tonks briefly fantasized about running away to live as a hermit in a tree fort like a fairy-tale witch. She turned back to Draco, registering the way his nose had crinkled a little with disdain.

“You don’t seem fine. What is wrong with you?”

To illustrate his point, he reached out and held a lock of her insistently mouse brown hair in front of her face. She swatted him away.

“I am fine. All I wanted was to help you have some choices. Maybe give you a little support. But since you evidently don’t want that,” she said bitterly, “I will butt out.”

She refused to make eye contact with him as she walked past him and back around to the front of the greenhouse. A niggling in her stomach caused her to pause, “I’ll be in Hogsmede, if you need me.”

~~~

Each step felt like a mistake. One. Two. Run. _No._

A series of snickers, yips and jeers greeted him. They sounded like coyotes. Rising over the line of trees along the ridge was the moon. Quarter full. The air was misty, cold. Remus focused on moving forward, towards the centre of the cluster of buildings.

Greyback had taken up his residence in the foreman’s cabin of the abandoned mining venture that was their camp. A collection of haggard, shared cabins surrounded it. A larger building, a common dining and leisure room, was set off to the side. The windows of each building- cement foundation, brick siding, simple rectangles- were smashed out. The doors had been removed. Remus averted his eyes from a couple pressed up against a door frame, rutting.

Hesitating at the entrance of Greyback’s cabin, Remus sent a prayer to James and Sirius.

“Well ‘ello,” Greyback jeered from the large armchair he’d positioned in the centre of the room, solitary like a throne. His pallid, pockmarked face had plagued Remus’s nights for so many years. 

“Hello,” Remus replied firmly. Politely. He would not allow for his sense of culture to be derided by this life.

“Finally decided the bloody wonderful world of wizards innit for you, have you? Figured out that the fucking prigs ‘ate us?”

“Yes.” _Something like that._

Greyback sniffed the air a few times. He pushed himself up from the chair and staggered over to Remus. He was taller, broader. He leaned in, pressing his face down into Remus’s neck and inhaled deeply, audibly.

“You reek of them.”

Remus pressed his lips together. “No more.” 

“Good. You’re with us, you’re with us, _Lupin_. No going back, understand?”

“That’s why I’m here.”

Greyback released a quiet growl, dancing at the back of his throat. “Good, pet. Glad infecting you hasn’t turned out such a waste after all.” Then he barked, “Find yourself a cabin!”

Moments of cowardice lead to so much loss. Sirius was too much a coward to be the secret keeper, the one who James and Lily could rely on. He had told Remus, when they’d first been reunited at that damned shack, that he thought it would be a clever ruse passing the task on to Peter. Remus had seen in his haunted eyes that it went beyond that. Sirius hadn’t trusted himself to keep the secret. Remus suspected it had had a lot to do with the fact that Regulus was deep within the Death Eater’s control; and while they could not torture the information out of Sirius himself, they could inflict any number of horrors of his younger brother. Despite the two having spent years estranged, Sirius never could give up on Regulus. He’d thought Peter would be much more unfailingly loyal to James.

Peter, of course, was too much a coward to make the same choice Sirius had. Too much a coward to miss the opportunity to find Voldemort’s favour. Peter had simply slunk off to the shadows of those with whom he thought the power would lay in the end.

And then, there was the consideration that Remus had been too much a coward to try and prevent his friends from tormenting Severus. Maybe if he had, Severus and Lily would have been friends still. Maybe Severus would not have given that prophecy up to Voldemort. Maybe.

For a paralyzing moment, Remus was uncertain if he was acting out of cowardice or not, leaving Tonks to be amongst his kind.

But no. This was important. His duty. Remus weaved his way through the buildings, seeking the one that would provide the least repulsive room mates.

Bravery was sticking to his values. It was integrating himself into this camp in the hopes that he could provide the Order with something valuable. In the hopes that he could prevent some of his peers from siding with Voldemort. And if distance from him protected Dora, then all the better. In the end, he could succeed where Sirius had failed. He could have faith in his own determination.

~~~


	8. Melancholy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited for clarification and increased reflectiveness based on some very valuable feedback from Alex G!

Tonks was sick of Hogsmede. She was sick of seeing Aberforth’s surly face on her way to and from her room each day. She was sick of seeing the many boarded up shop fronts. Sick of greeting the same ten people. Sick of patrolling the drizzly, miserable Hogwarts grounds day in and out, trying not to think of Remus. Of Draco. Of the fact that her hair, as if cursed by Morgana herself, stubbornly refused to change from the dishwater, dusty, awful colour it had lapsed into.

Tonks had bought some hair dye from a muggle pharmacy. It seemed she was immune to its effects. Her hair had simply absorbed the colour and remained sickly brown.

At least, Tonks pondered during those first months (in a manner that was not particularly hopeful), there had been no signs of Death Eaters around the castle. But then the Bell girl was cursed. 

And it was clearly meant to be an attempt against Dumbledore himself.

Draco wrote her that night. No greeting. No signature. Just: _Meet me._  

She’d headed for the greenhouses immediately. He’d been distraught. It had been over two months since she’d seen him up close and he looked like shit. Underneath his icy eyes dark circles stood out shockingly against his skin, more pale than ever. 

He didn’t confess that he was the one behind the attack. Didn’t say anything, actually. He’d just sunk down onto the snow and curled into himself, shaking as he leaned against the frosted glass of the greenhouse. She’d sat next to him and held his hand for awhile as he sobbed into his knees. Then he’d whispered his thanks, mumbled about how he was learning occlumency the best he could and departed.

Tonks watched as Draco’s figure, his cloak stark black against the snow, hastened back up to the castle. She’d been biting her tongue she realized, as the metallic taste began to fill her mouth. She was nauseated.

It must have been shock, she figured, that had left her feeling so numb. Her thoughts were foggy and unclear. While Draco hadn’t said anything to her, she hadn’t said anything in return. She’d greeted him quietly; a mosaic of emotions had probably been plastered messily in her expression. Concern, fear, anger- disgust, maybe. Not that it had mattered as Draco wouldn’t make eye contact anyhow. And then, she remained silent. She must have been absolutely deranged to have just sat next to him, holding his hand like a nurse maid.

And yet… what could she have done other than comfort the boy- attempted murderer though he might be? She’d seen how wrecked he was by the task he'd been forced to take on. Now that she understood properly what he’d meant when he told her it was terrible and that she had not understood- she certainly had _not_ \- she knew the assignment was one he _was_ meant to fail. He was meant to die. 

All to punish slimy Lucius Malfoy for his incompetence.

Her fist slammed against the window of the greenhouse and a venomous tentacula snapped back against the glass in vicious defence. Circe and Morgana, she was so fucking _furious_. With Voldemort. With Lucius. With Draco. With Remus. With Wizarding society as a goddamned whole.

She stood for awhile longer, lungs heaving. The cold air began to seep into her, cooling her emotions. Eventually, she headed up to the castle in Draco’s wake, knowing by now he’d be tucked away in his dorm, none the wiser. She went to Dumbledore’s office to tell him.

She was certain Draco had been behind the cursed necklace, she said. Feeling momentarily ashamed, she confessed she had been meeting with Draco since the summer. Then, defiance in her eyes (a look she knew to be so fierce her parents had dubbed her their little dragon as soon as she’d been old enough to level a glare at them), she defended her cousin.

Dumbledore had nodded, unfazed. He’d told her that he knew of Draco’s task. That he had Severus on the job. That they would do their best to ensure the boy be protected. He’d encouraged Tonks to continue reaching out to him, if she could. He’d said there was no news of Remus.

On leaving, she felt dissatisfied. Angrier than before, even. She added Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape to the list of people she was furious with. They had both _known_ this was Draco’s task. And still… they had let him nearly kill an innocent girl.

And Dumbledore was always so vague, putting on omniscient airs as though he knew how everything would play out but that he did not deign it appropriate to share such information with the lowly foot soldiers of the Order. In fact, all he had said was that he knew of Draco’s task. He hadn’t even clearly confirmed _what_ the task entailed. And while Tonks was certain Draco would not succeed in killing Albus Almighty Dumbledore, what if he _did_ kill someone else? That would destroy Draco, Tonks knew. As surely as spending so much time with Greyback and his lackeys would end up destroying Remus.

She’d returned to her rooms in the Hog’s Head. Gave Aberforth a forced smile on the way. Putting a silencing charm on her room, she screamed until she began to sob.  

 

A few weeks later Molly came to visit. She’d brought a little potted Christmas Cactus to brighten up the room. She’d asked Tonks to join them for Christmas. Heard Remus would most likely be able to visit for a few days. Tonks felt far too enthused at the prospect.

So she said no.

At least, she explained, not unless Remus reached out to her first. She held no delusions about their goodbye. Remus had meant it to be forever.

~~~

Remus wished he could be happy that he was spending these few days amongst loved ones. The last few months had been rather defeating. His fellows, as he’d taken to sardonically thinking of them, were not interested in much beyond what Greyback promised them. What Voldemort promised them. Never mind that once their use was over they’d be quick to be pushed aside in the vision of a Pure Future. 

The few werewolves that he’d taken to spending most of his time with were, at least, the more mellow of the camp. One, Jonathon, had been a herbologist before he’d stumbled upon a group of wolves on the wrong night of the month while working in the field. Another, Sara, had been attacked as a child. She, like Remus, had not been abducted to live with wolves after her infection like so many children were, but had been raised by her parents. Eventually she’d run away, fearing she’d injure them as she grew stronger.

The others though… Several described past attacks on people in a truly lascivious fashion. Exalted Voldemort’s visions for a muggle free world, one where wolves would be able to range freely.

Greyback would needle at Remus, try to make him flinch, ask if he’d had nightmares after his attack. Remus pulled on a strength he didn’t know he’d had and remained neutral in the face of it.

What Remus struggled with the most, though, was how he felt about spending the moons in the camp. After years of transforming alone, there was a disconcerting comfort to it. The first few years after the war he had ached for his friends, never feeling the pain more acutely than with each moon. For awhile, they had calmed his fears of transforming, his sick worry that he would harm someone when he had no control. Then, once Sirius had taken up residence in Grimmauld Place and they’d begun to reinstate the Order, Sirius had invited Remus to spend a few of his transformations with him in his animagus form, huddled in the cellar of the old house. That had given Remus some amount of safety.

But Remus had never transformed amongst other wolves. It felt free.

And that made him feel sick.

And so, when it had come time, he’d fabricated a rather elaborate excuse about his dying mother in order to be able to leave the camp for Christmas. Remus had prayed (always to James and Sirius) that Greyback would not realise that Remus’s mother was not a Pureblood as he claimed, but in fact a muggle. A long dead one. It had been the backing of Jonathon, Sara, and surprisingly, one of Greyback’s right hand wolves (who apparently harboured a desire for Sara) that had finally persuaded Greyback to allow Remus the leave.

But now, instead of talking to Harry- who, as he grew, reminded him of James so much it hurt- Remus stewed, staring into the fire. He listened to Ginny try to exasperatedly placate Arthur as he nattered on about the muggle underground system. Arthur sighed loudly, expressing his wish that Tonks was present, as she was nearly as enthusiastic about all things muggle as Arthur himself. Even better, Tonks’s father was a muggleborn, so she knew enough to answer a fair few of Arthur’s endless questions.

When Harry began to prod at Arthur about Snape’s inarguably suspicious conversation with Draco Malfoy just prior to the holidays, Remus dragged himself away from the fire and defended Snape. Feeling rather irritable, he expressed his trust in Dumbledore’s judgement. And, he realized, he trusted Tonks’s judgement as well. Draco was clearly mixed up in something far beyond his capacity to manage, but Remus knew that with Dora and Severus on guard, he’d have as much a fighting chance as possible.

Softening a little as Harry asked what Remus had been up to with a concerned look, he began to share a little of his burden. Remus tried to restrain his bitterness for Harry’s sake. A rush of love for the boy nearly overwhelmed him as Harry expressed his outrage at Greyback’s actions against Remus and insisted that Remus qualified as ‘normal’. Thanking Arthur for a cup of the egg nog being passed around, Remus resolved to spend Christmas focused on those he was able to have some fleeting moments of comfort and joy with. 

Next day at dinner, however, Remus caved. Molly had made a barbed remark about how Tonks was spending Christmas alone. Harry had asked, innocently curious, about why the woman’s patronus would have changed. Remus felt suffocated, strangled in the cozy, jubilant dining room. With the distraction of Percy arriving in the company of the rather spurious Minister of Magic Scrimgeour, Remus slipped out. He’d send Molly and Arthur a thank you note later.

Aberforth smirked as Remus walked in, “Number four.”

Remus struggled to regulate his breathing as he climbed the narrow steps behind the bar. Each grimy door along the hall had tarnished silver letters spelling out the room number. Number Four was missing the R, so instead it declared haughtily: Fou. 

He knocked hesitantly. There was no answer, not a sound from within. Maybe Molly had been wrong. Dora must have gone to spend time with her parents, after all.

“Remus?” Her voice crackled behind him.

~~~


	9. Gifts

Tonks invited Remus in to the room, her heart pounding erratically against her chest. She’d just returned from her patrol of the school grounds. Curse Aberforth for not warning her. Old goat.

She offered Remus the ratty armchair that was pressed into the back corner of the room, about two feet away from the bed, on the foot of which she perched feet bouncing in their laced boots. Remus politely slipped his boots off at the door before settling into the chair, loosening his scarf. For a moment they just stared at one another.

“Happy Christmas, Dora,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry I don’t have a gift for you.”

“You’re here.”

“Yes,” he chuckled darkly, “a rather poor choice, I suppose.”

“Maybe,” Tonks shrugged, assessing him. He looked nearly as bad as Draco had last she saw him. Draco, she supposed, was new to the ragged look; mayhap Remus just wore it better, more comfortably.

Remus cleared his throat awkwardly and reached into his cloak. 

“I actually do want to give you something. I found it at Grimmauld Place, just before I left…”

He reached across the void between his seat and the bed, passing her a tattered envelope. Out of it, Tonks slid a photograph. It was from last Christmas, when things had felt a little more hopeful. She beamed out, hair a bright red, from between Sirius and Remus. Their Christmas tree glittered in the background. The tree had felt like a triumph to them all, she remembered. They’d decorated it with Harry, Hermione and all the Weasleys after hearing that the antivenin created to treat Arthur had been successful.

“Merlin,” she whispered, tears tumbling down her cheeks. “I forgot we’d taken any pictures.”

Remus moved to sit stiffly beside her.

“I duplicated it,” he said. “So I could have a copy as well.” 

At this Tonks began to sob in earnest, curling into herself. Remus wrapped an arm around her and held her. She asked, feeling sick, if it was her fault. Because if only she’d fought harder, fought better, Bellatrix would never have been able to move on from duelling her to fighting Sirius. He’d never have fallen. He’d still be with them. If only she were better.

Remus ensnared her in both sturdy arms. She flung her legs over his lap, her arms around his neck and cried until the waves of grief began to fade.

“Holding Harry back from that archway was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do,” Remus offered softly. “I had to be strong for him. All I wanted to do was fling myself after him.”

Tonks felt the truth of it like a shot to her gut. She began to withdraw from Remus.

“But never,” Remus continued, holding to her ever more tightly, “would I ever imagine his death to have been in any possible way _your fault_.”

“I think it was,” she said brokenly.

“My love,” Remus stroked her hair, “I wish I could change that.”

Tonks shrugged, feeling overwhelmed by his affection, “You’re helping.” 

He chuckled softly and tipped her chin up, brushing a soft kiss to each cheek. “I’m glad.”

Slipping away, Tonks excused herself to the bathroom. She was a little fearful that Remus would think better of coming and disappear when she was away, but she needed a moment to pull herself together. She scrubbed at her face with cold water and stared at herself in the mirror. She crinkled her nose and willed her hair to turn pink. No such luck. Returning to the main room, she let out a little sigh at seeing Remus sitting on the edge of her bed, just where she’d left him.

He grinned at her, “Haven’t bailed out yet.”

In one rapid move, he stood and strode towards her, grabbing her neck and kissing her with desperation. She slipped his travelling cloak off. He unbuttoned her coat. They tumbled onto the bed. 

When he’d undone her shirt, eyes focused on her revealed skin, he froze. Tonks pulled back, dreading that he had suddenly taken this moment to think better of the direction the night was taking. She didn’t think she could handle that.

His fingers gently brushed her skin, just above the line of her bright purple bra.

“Is this…” His voice faltered. 

_Oh._  

“The paw print of one Padfoot, of Marauder’s notoriety? Yes.”

She’d had a letter from Sirius signed with the print taken to a muggle artist over the summer and tattooed over her heart. 

Remus kissed her softly for a moment, as if wanting to impart his love, before his passion took over again. Tonks was delighted to find that wild look back in his eyes. Not fearful this time. Or angry. Lustful.

~~~

Remus took a deep breath and clung to Dora. She hummed softly and nuzzled her nose into his chest. They’d been lying silently, wrapped in one another, for nearly an hour now. The part of Remus that felt it was important to protect Dora from himself had been pushed aside wholeheartedly. Now though, it was insidiously slithering back into his consciousness.

He dipped his head down to press a kiss against her forehead. Her hair was overall a lank brown but, Remus noticed, there were a few lavender locks woven through it. 

“Dora…” he whispered, “I’m sorry.”

He could feel her lips curve into a smile against his chest. “What for?”

“For not being stronger.” His tone was devout. 

Tonks pulled away from him, brows raised incredulously.

“You’re fucking kidding me right?”

Remus closed his eyes, not wanting to meet hers. He shook his head and let his breath out slowly.

“I’m not strong. I’ve never been able to withstand the possibility of having a friend. You know, I hadn’t spent more than five minutes at a time in the presence of another child until Hogwarts. It took me two years before I could accept that James, Sirius and Peter were actually my friends. And then, no matter how outright _mean_ they were to anyone else, I never… I’ve never been able to stick to my morals in the face of a chance at companionship. I haven’t grown much as a person, it seems, given I’m here.”

Tonks blew a crude noise out of her lips. “Merlin Rem, keep that up and Sirius’ll be coming back to haunt your ignorant ass.” She grabbed hold of his face in a manner that was not so much a caress as a firm demand. 

Remus opened his eyes to meet her gaze. He tried to focus on her words, rather than the furrow that had formed between her well arched eyebrows and the way her lips were twisted just slightly with displeasure. She had a point there, Remus knew. Sirius would have been positively outraged to hear him voice that fact.

Splaying her other hand above his heart, Tonks said, “Wanting companionship? That is not weakness. That is _humanity_.” 

Every protesting thought that had been bubbling up in his mind like a crudely made potion vanished. _Evanesco_.

She was right, after all, wasn’t she?

“I’m not expecting tonight to have changed your mind about this-about us- Remus. But…” She nibbled on her lip, looking at him so earnestly his heart ached. “I hope you can change your mind about that belief, at least.” 

Remus ran his fingers through her hair, contemplating. He nodded. Then he asked, “What’s going on with your hair?”

Tonks set her jaw stubbornly. “Never you mind.”

“Harry mentioned something about your patronus…” 

At this, she surprised Remus, pushing him back and jumping out of bed, turning to pull a too large t-shirt she grabbed off a pile on the floor over herself before whirling back around to glare at him. It was clear to him that he had made a serious misstep in mentioning it. How she could go from so determinedly loving him to being so furious in a hot second was beyond Remus’s understanding.

“You think I _want_ you to have this much of a fucking effect on me?” she howled. “It’s fucking ridiculous! Like I’m just some love sick teenager. Well I am _not_! I am a woman and I do perfectly fucking well on my own thank you very much!”

Remus, who had pulled himself into a seated position as he endured her waves of wrath, met her eyes evenly.

“You think you don’t drive me mad, too? I don’t do anything without thinking it through very thoroughly. Except, of course, when it comes to you.” Remus’s voice had been calm and measured initially. Its volume-entirely out of his own control- was beginning to increase, however. “Like, for example, the fact that I am _naked_ in your bed right now! I don’t yell at people. I don’t swear at people. For _fuck’s sake_ Dora!” he shouted.  

She threw herself at him then, her lips colliding against his with such force that they both tumbled backwards onto the bed.

After they’d made love once more Remus curled around Tonks, her back pressed tightly to his chest. They talked about their work. Their duties. How they could both agree that no matter how much they wished they could forget the world and run off together to live somewhere isolated they had far too much to fight for.

The next morning, as they stood in her doorway, Remus said regretfully, “Dora…”

“I know,” she whispered. The traces of bitterness in her voice were almost hidden from him. 

“I do love you.” 

“I know.” She reached up on her toes to kiss him soundly. “Me too.” 

As he walked down the constricted stairwell and slipped out a back door of the Hog’s Head to apparate, Remus wondered just what it was she knew. That he was losing this battle with himself? That it wouldn’t take much longer before she had convinced him that maybe turning into a damned werewolf once a month wasn’t such an insurmountable barrier?

~~~


	10. Comforts

The days following Christmas were the kind of cold that seeps into every moment of life. Tonks woke up each morning to see her breath fog into the air of her room at the inn. She’d cast a warming charm and pull on a wool jumper over her flannel pajamas before making herself a mug of tea. She’d try to be grateful that she was on day patrols this week. Bundling up, she’d head out for her rounds, keeping up a brisk pace to maintain her body warmth. After eight hours she’d head back to the Hog’s Head for a stew. Then she’d crawl back into bed, piling on extra blankets and wearing a pair of thick socks from Molly with the hopes that she wouldn’t wake up chilly in the middle of the night.

The day before New Year’s Eve Draco wrote her again. The note was mildly more loquacious than his last, mentioning that he’d forgone going home for the holiday and wondered if she might like to meet him at their usual location after lunch. She’d sent his owl back with her agreement scrawled on the back of the same piece of parchment. 

Nipping a couple of travel mugs from Aberforth she made up tea just how Draco liked it. Then she stopped by Honeyduke’s for a couple of snacks- treacle fudge and fizzing whizzbees. Tonks smiled as the clerk packed them up in Christmas edition paper bags, imagining how much fun it might have been to exchange gifts as a family back when they were younger. Of course, the Malfoys would never have stooped so low as to show up to the Tonks home to participate in the jolly carousing that filled Tonks’s memories. But Andromeda had always spoken fondly of a few of the Black family’s traditions- wreath making had always been her favourite and she would hum ruefully to herself as she reminisced about how Narcissa had outstripped them all in her skill at the task.

When Tonks poked her head around to the back of the greenhouse with a brilliant grin, she was delighted to see Draco holding a matching bag. His eyes lit up just a little and the boy allowed himself a smile.

“Happy Christmas!” Tonks exclaimed. “Brought you a little something.”

“And I you,” Draco raised a smug brow, offering her the bag.

“Coconut ice and pixie puffs! Brilliant Draco, thanks.”

Draco, equally pleased- their sweets preferences was one of the first things they had covered during the awkward moments of their initial meeting- pressed a well bred kiss to Tonks’s cheek. Then he pulled away, looking suddenly unsure.

“Tonks… are, are you not angry with me?”

Figuring it was best to be honest with him- Tonks figured he probably didn’t get much honesty in his life, never mind that she really wasn’t capable of so much as a white lie anyhow- Tonks replied, “I am, yeah.”

Draco looked to the ground, the corner of his mouth tugging downwards. “So why are you here?”

Tonks shrugged, “You’re still my cousin. My friend.” He glanced up briefly before dropping his eyes back down. “And I guess… I have a hard time blaming you entirely for this bloody mess you’re all tangled in. But still… She nearly died, Draco.” Saying the fact out loud caused the tightly coiled unease in her gut raise up like a cobra.

“I know. I don’t know what to do Tonks. I really don’t have a choice.” He sounded so fractured that Tonks couldn’t help but feel her anger towards him abate a little. “I know this is really, awfully selfish but could we just… kind of forget about it and just hang out for a bit?”

Sighing, Tonks popped a pixie puff into her mouth, hooked her arm through his and suggested they go for a stroll. The sky was an unbroken grey, snow would certainly come, but at the moment the air held more warmth than it had in ages.

She was pleased to note that Draco sighed a little in response, then seemed to loosen up. He even tilted his face towards the sky and took a deep, cleansing breath. But when he realized she was aiming him towards the Forbidden Forest, Draco dug in his heels.

“Why on _earth,_ ” he asked disparagingly, “would you want to go in there?”

Tonks smirked, “Well you don’t want anyone that might be in the castle to see us together, do you? I suspect that would get you in just a spot of trouble with your parents.”

“There are werewolves in there, Tonks." 

At this she laughed outright. “Oh stop whinging. It’s nowhere near the full moon. Besides… they’re really just people, Draco.”

Draco let out an indignant and rather undignified ‘Humpf’, but allowed his cousin to steer him into the border of the forest. 

“We’ll stay to the edges,” she reassured him before asking him how his holidays were.

Draco shared a small amount before deflecting the conversation to Tonks. He was nothing if not well bred, he insisted, and far too many of their conversations thus far tended to focus on him. His mother would be appalled. So Tonks, taking a deep steadying breath, told him about Remus.

She was not unsurprised by his reaction- one of disgust and outrage initially, followed by an almost sweet expression of protectiveness. That said, she was having none of it. Tonks had decided to share with him because speaking to Molly about it all, while lovely, was a little much at times. The woman was insistently reassuring and Tonks was highly doubtful of every platitude that Molly offered her. She just wanted someone to listen. And provide a little honesty, perhaps.

Once Draco had calmed enough to listen to the story of her tangled relationship he took a moment to eye her thoughtfully. With his head tilted just a little and his grey eyes spacey with reflection, Tonks half expected him to start spewing prophecies. 

Instead he said, “I’ve never felt that way about anyone.”

Tonks, suddenly feeling a curl of embarrassment in her gut, looked down to the forest floor.

“I mean,” Draco continued, “I don’t imagine anyone has ever felt that way about me, either. That you both just…” Tonks glanced back up, catching his intense gaze for a moment, “Want to fight for one another like that. It’s… It’s a little mad." 

Chuckling, Tonks gave him a little shove, “Maybe. Makes me a little mad, anyhow. And I’d fight for you, you twit.”

“Well thanks, but you really ought not to. You’ve already got your hands full with mangy dog. So is this why your hair has been so painfully sad of late?” 

Scowling, Tonks replied, “My fucking patronus has changed too.”

Draco hummed thoughtfully, “Could you teach me to cast a patronus?” Without waiting for a reply he continued, “And in all seriousness, Tonks… he might have the right of it.”

“You’re a tad biased,” she retorted.

“Maybe. But I’m weighing the facts. He seems to be terribly in love with you. He also seems to be a man of strong morals- I rather liked him as a professor you know, though I’m afraid I was rather mean spirited about his general shabbiness-”

Tonks rolled her eyes, “Mean spirited? I can’t believe it.”

“Shut it. Point being he does not want to see you hurt. And the possibility that he could hurt you is very real, Tonks.”

Feeling her eyes prick a little Tonks pressed her lips tight, hoping to ward off the tears. “You’re right, I suppose.”

“Knowing you, he probably thinks you are being willfully naïve about it all.”

“Draco,” she growled, “You don’t know me _that_ well.”

Draco barked out a sarcastic laugh. “Tonks. You’ve spent the last several months insistently trying to _save_ me or some such gods cursed thing. I can hardly imagine you are giving Lupin any other impression. You’ve got a hero’s complex.”

“Fuck off,” she muttered, recognizing some degree of truth in the statement.

“Maybe,” Draco said, drawing the word out, “if you made it clear you actually _did_ understand the danger, he’d stop trying to protect you.”

“I could hex circles around him. And you.”

Draco shrugged, “Just saying. And you could _not_ hex circles around me. I once made Granger’s teeth grow to her knees.”

They fell back into playful banter as they walked back to the greenhouses before saying their goodbyes. Tonks had not expected Draco to seem quite as- as _wise_ as he had. She was coming to deeply appreciate the relationship they had developed. As she continued to walk the grounds for her patrol, she felt a little more hopeful and quite a lot less isolated.

~~~

Remus entered the camp after Christmas with the sense of resignation that had been his companion since he was twenty-one years of age. Maybe he’d had a brief happiness throughout his adolescence, but it was his fate to just keep trucking on through all the rest of life. To be cursed. To be friendless. To be miserable. But to be resilient. To scavenge and survive like a stray mutt.

The comfort that he had found with Dora had fled him near immediately. He didn’t terribly regret it. Not as much as he had figured he would. It had leant them both some relief, something they had each been in great need of. Dora’s acquiescence when it came to the fact that it could only be that one, wonderful day for them had helped Remus to fall fully into what essentially equated to a phenomenal day dream. As he walked towards the perimeter of the camp he fiddled with her ring, always strung around his neck where she’d placed it months prior. He let it slip down under his collar as he saw the first buildings.

Unlike the jeering chorus that had greeted him on his first arrival to the camp, Remus’s entry went largely unheeded. The full moon was in two days and everyone was glutting themselves on what meat they’d been able to secure in preparation. A few members of the camp, Remus was told, had gone off with Greyback in order to position themselves nearby a family with whom Lucius Malfoy had a bone to pick. Remus offered to pick through the traps that had been erected within the forest adjacent to their camp. They were, as nearly always, empty. Small animals could smell the predatory pheromones of the wolves, no matter the time of month.

It was not difficult for Remus to settle back into the routine of the camp. Not much changed really. They had lost a few members. One killed by Greyback for some insignificant slight against the leader. One for venturing too close to a wizarding home that was well defended against attack. There was, though, one difference that caused a sense of unease to unfurl within Remus- Greyback was ignoring him. Not entirely, of course. But the grizzled man no longer taunted Remus. He spoke to him only when he had a specific purpose, a specific order. Greyback, in fact, was conspicuously avoiding even looking at Remus. It was as if he was desperate to analyze Remus’s every move, but working hard so that Remus wouldn’t catch on. It was undeniably disconcerting.

Remus would have to move a little more carefully going forward. He never questioned the wisdom of carrying on.

~~~


	11. Apprehension

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated with grammatical edits

“Proudfoot,” Tonks hollered, “Would you bugger off?” 

A glance at her pocket watch, propped open on the side table told Tonks it was eleven in the evening. She growled and pulled the pillow over her head. Proudfoot had determined that Tonks was too melancholy, and it was April and spring time was a time of rejuvenation he had insisted. Hearing such a ridiculous cliché from the young man who had proffered the comment quite seriously had caused her to roll her eyes and stomp off to her room. He had been trying to convince her to go into Diagon Alley for the night and ‘live it up a little’. It was Saturday after all.

The air pressure of the room began to swell ominously. Tonks felt her ears pop and she flew out of bed, pointing her wand at the bedroom door just as her wards broke and the door flew open, doorknob slamming violently into the cracked dry wall. She disarmed the shadowy opponent without thought and caught their wand as they stepped into the room.

The room was lit perfectly adequately by the moonlight filtering in through the dingy window, a beam fell helpfully on the intruder, illuminating him. Draco.

“ _What the fuck_?” Tonks hissed.

She scanned him quickly up and down. No apparent injuries, though he did look more pale than usual. Striding towards the doorway, Tonks shoved him deeper into the room, pressing his wand to his chest where he reached to clutch it awkwardly. She crept into the hallway towards the stairs, casting charms to reveal any hidden adversaries. When she felt safe enough, she slid back into her room, locked and warded the door and turned to glare at her cousin.

“What in the name of Merlin, Morgana and buggered _Hoodini_ do you think you’re doing? Fuck Malfoy, anyone could see you. That will get us both killed right quick that will!”

Draco attempted a sneer and in a tone that was almost as confidently disdainful as Tonks was sure he had intended it to be replied, “I used a secret passage out of the castle and am quite handy with disillusionment I’ll have you know. I snuck right into the pub behind some drunkard, I’m sure no one noticed.”

“If you think Aberforth isn’t keen enough to catch you sneaking up those stairs you’re batty.”

“Whatever. It couldn’t wait.”

Then, Draco made her wait. He pursed his lips tightly and took several long minutes to eye each corner of the room with suspicion. When he finally spoke it was not anything near what she had suspected. She anticipated, perhaps, a confession of his guilt in the poisoning of Ron Weasley earlier that week. That had caused her to have a panic attack in her shower after she’d heard about it. Proudfoot had told her after she’d returned home from a visit with her parents and she had nodded weakly then headed straight to her room to bathe, hoping to wash the sick feeling that settled in her gut away. She had sunk to the floor of the shower immediately, struggling to breathe. She really was wearing thin. Proudfoot was right, she probably could have used a night at the pub.

Instead he said, “Full moon tonight.”

“What are you on about?” she snapped.

“Tonks… I heard some news from Goyle today. I gather that… that Lupin’s being held captive by Greyback. They’re… questioning him, it seems.”

Reaching out, she seized Draco’s robes and yanked him closer to her. A panic overtook her sense and everything narrowed down to his pointed, pallid face. His grey eyes were wide with concern.

“I’m so sorry… I just. I had to come and tell you. I don’t know that there’s anything you can do really but…”

She released him abruptly and began to prepare to leave in a flurry. Ripping off her pajamas she pulled on a pair of jeans and a jumper, ignoring Draco’s blush as he turned to stare at the wall.

“Tell me everything you know,” she demanded.

“Not much,” he replied, voice wavering. “I guess Greyback was getting a bit suspicious of him. And Goyle says his dad heard he was romantically involved with someone in the Order so…”

Tonks froze, in the middle of pulling her robes onto her right arm, wand held awkwardly in her teeth. “Draco,” she said slowly, “How the _fuck_ would they know something like that?” 

Draco, who had still been facing the wall, shuffled around until he faced her. “Not from me. I swear it on mum’s life, Tonks.”

She stared intently at him for a moment before nodding briskly and continuing to dress. “What else?”

“They’ve had him under interrogation about three days. Goyle’s dad joined the camp just prior to the moon in order to help out with it. He’s just returned home and written to Goyle to tell him about it.” 

Lips pressed into a fine line Tonks raised a brow in silent question. 

Draco shook his head, “I don’t know if they learnt anything from it. Goyle didn’t say and I didn’t want to press for the details of his personal correspondence.”

“Is Dumbledore back?” 

If Tonks had felt as if there was any degree of stability in the world, perhaps she would have felt badly when Draco flinched at her tone. As it was she felt completely unmoored. Her heart pounding painfully was the only sensation tying her to her body, otherwise she thought her soul might just fly right out of it in search of Remus. It was just recently that she had run into Harry at the castle while looking for Dumbledore, hoping to hear any news on Remus. And he hadn’t been there.

Draco shook his head, “Wasn’t at dinner, no.”

Hearing this she gave him another curt nod and moved to the door.

“Be careful getting back.”

He reached out, laying a hesitant hand on her shoulder, “Tonks… be careful, okay?” 

A reckless, predatory smile spread across her face. Something about the contact against her muscles had reigned her in a little. Taking a deep breath, she gathered her wits about her a little more, ordering her mind to slow. Being impulsive about this wouldn’t do any good. 

“I will,” she reassured him. “I promise.” 

As she raced down the stairs Aberforth gave her a questioning look. She slipped to his side and quietly informed him that she had had a guest who had been seeking to help the Order and if Aberforth could make it easy for the disillusioned wizard to slip out of the pub, she would be most grateful. Aberforth was nothing if not sharp and subtle and quickly made a show about opening the back door to take out the garbage. Feeling confident in Draco’s ability to make it back up to the castle, she apparated to Moody’s front door.

~~~


	12. Prehension

Alastor Moody’s home looked like a cold war bunker. Kinglsey was keeper of the fidelius charm on the home and a scant few people knew its address. The building’s towering walls of concrete were broken only by narrow slivers of window, charmed against breaking. The door was steel with a dragon’s claw knocker. She hammered on it as she swept her wand across it. She was one of maybe two people outside of Moody himself to whom the wards would provide any information. Her spell informed her that he was not, in fact home. She cursed and spun off to The Burrow instead. 

She cried in relief when she saw him sitting on the back porch with Arthur, smoking a pipe. Molly must be on some patrol or other, Tonks thought. No way would she have allowed Arthur to smoke. The men jumped to their feet, concern woven into their lined faces. Moody’s fake eye had been stuck backwards, he gave it a jab and it quickly whirled around to meet her gaze.

She gasped out her story, keeping her source confidential. The look Moody fixed her with made it clear that she would not get away with keeping it that way for long.

Arthur looked troubled, “Tonks… we don’t know where the camp is. Remus has only shared that with Dumbledore.”

Tonks knew she should feel a little bashful as she made this admission- given that Remus knew nothing about it- she did not at all, however. “I’ve given him a gift that he keeps with him,” she shared. “It’s got a locator charm on it.” 

Moody looked proud.

Quickly, they hammered out a plan. Arthur would alert other members of the Order of the potential breech in their security. Everyone must be prepared to go to one of the several safe houses that Remus had not been aware of in a moments notice. 

Moody had been reluctant to agree on a rescue, growling that Remus was likely a lost cause at this point. Never mind that it was a full moon tonight.

Tonks had grasped his hand, tears in her eyes, and looked up at his scarred visage, her desperation clear.

“Fine,” he consented. “Not because I think this is a good idea- because it’s right stupid. But because I know you’d go off on your own and get yourself killed if I didn’t go with you.”

She’d thrown her arms around him and hung off his neck until he had relented and wrapped his arms around her tightly in return. It took just a few minutes longer for them to agree on their tactical plan. Arthur summoned a map of the UK from inside his home and Tonks activated her locator charm. When a bright blue light sparkled on the crinkled surface of the map, relief swamped her. They determined it would be safest to apparate to a point about two kilometres away and then fly in. Arthur pulled a couple of brooms out of his shed and shrunk them so Tonks and Moody could tuck them away in the pockets of their cloaks. They held to one another and turned on the spot, the constriction of apparition squeezing the anxiety Tonks felt to a breaking point.

As she hit the frosted ground and stumbled Tonks gasped. She flung her hands out in front of her to catch herself and felt her palms sting as rocks dug into her flesh. Moody grabbed her collar and yanked her back to her feet. She glanced around. Trees as far as the eye could see. They were harshly lit in the full moon, long shadows reminiscent of jail bars lined the forest floor. It was significantly colder here than at the Burrow, and her breath smoked in the air as she panted.

“Deep breath, Dora.” Moody ordered.

She followed his instructions as he took out the brooms and restored them to their functional size. An eerie howl broke through the air. She flung her leg over the broom he handed her and lifted off next to him. They intended to fly over the encampment during the night, while the werewolves would not be able to take any notice of them scouting it out. Then, as the morning dawned, they would extract Remus. Their hope was that they would be able to recognize him somehow during the night, and get in promptly as he returned to himself to remove him from the situation. In any case, the wolves would be weak on their restoration to human form, and it would be a touch easier for Tonks and Moody to take them on. It was almost a blessing that it was the full moon- it also meant that Goyle and any other Death Eater’s that had been at the camp had cleared out. If Tonks and Mad-Eye were quick about it, they could get Remus to safety before any returned to the camp.

Tonks gave her mentor a grim grin and headed towards the howl.

As they grew closer, several more howls cut through the air. A hunched creature raced between the trees beneath her, followed by a handful more. Tonks had never seen a werewolf beyond pictures that had been in her DADA text at school. There was something terribly unnatural about them. She struggled to pin down quite what it was… Their tails were scraggly, like a well loved fur scarf that had lost its lustre. Their faces somehow slightly human. It was in observing their movement that Tonks felt her hairs stand on edge. They raced along one after the other rapidly, but in an off balanced manner. It reminded Tonks of the time her dad had made her watch the film To Kill a Mockingbird with him. There was a scene in which a rabid dog had jerked its way down the lane towards a family until it had been shot dead. 

A shrill, very human scream pierced through the air. Moody glanced at Tonks and they veered towards the noise. They flew over a cluster of decrepit buildings and to a tower of smoke wending its way towards the moon hovering above them. A bonfire burned in the little square at the centre of the buildings. Nearby a small body was curled into itself, trainers kicking out feebly. A massive werewolf was bent over the figure, ripping flesh off its small back. It’s just a little boy, Tonks realized in terror. A second wolf jumped in to nip at the boy’s calf, exposed beneath his torn robes. Tonks pushed back a scream with her hand pressed tight to her mouth.

One final cry and the boy’s kicking ceased. Tonks startled when she felt a hand against her shoulder. Moody shook his head silently. Too late. Nothing they could have managed to do anyways she supposed, feeling a deep dread set in. Remus had been right all this time. She never understood. She _was_ ignorant. Naïve.

Moody pointed across the square. Against a building that was a little larger than the others rested a small cage. It looked to be magically reinforced, a foreboding glimmer emanating from the bars. Inside a wolf lay curled, its snout squeezed between two of the bars. As they flew closer a faint whimpering reached Tonks’s ears. She knew in her core that this was Remus. Even in this form he looked like he’d been through hell. He had massive patches of his fur missing. The pallid bald spots were speckled with blood. His right foreleg stuck out at a bizarre angle.

As Moody let out a quiet whistle, the wolf looked up, eyes panicked. Pulling its nose back into the cage from between the bars, it twisted its head so as to get a better angle to view them, hovering ten meters above. It sniffed the air cautiously and its whip of a tail beat twice against the ground. 

 _He knows us!_ Tonks thought, all thoughts of the dead boy just metres away wiped from her mind. She was elated.

Then with a snarl Remus lunged at the bars along the top of the cage, snapping viciously. He jumped again and again, hammering his head against the cage. 

Moody grabbed her arm gently and pulled her away from the cage and back into the forest. They found a tree that they could settle in and sat beside one another on a solid branch waiting for dawn to break. 

“It’s part of him,” Moody said gravely.

“I know,” Tonks whispered. “I understand now.” 

~~~


	13. Surviving

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such a tremendously late update, especially after a bit of a cliff hanger! Life really caught up with me this summer and writing had to take the back burner. I will be continuing this story but update might be more around the every few weeks mark until it is complete! Thanks to you subscribers for your patience and I hope you enjoy :)

A rattling woke Remus. Without even cracking his eyes, his whole body responded by flinching back and away from the noise. There was not a cell in his body that wasn’t in pain. He retched, but his gut had nothing to give up. The air was cold as it hit his throat. He couldn’t decide whether it was soothing to his skin or if it was causing the pain to be worsened.

A softer noise reached through the fog clouding his mind. Then, more rattling. Then, maybe, something like a sob. Remus wasn’t sure if it had come from him.

Finally, forcing himself to take a deep breath, he opened his eyes. Nymphadora was there, hovering on the other side of a set of shimmering steel pipes, looking distraught. Remus croaked at her.

“Remus! Oh thank God, you woke up!”

“Get a move on,” another voice growled.

Remus struggled to focus his eyes and recognized the shape of Mad-Eye Moody, his back to Tonks, wand arm aloft. Remus gave his head a vigorous shake, biting into his tongue as shooting pain wracked up his arm. Dora was trying to open the cage, he realized. She was struggling to wrench it open physically at the same time as she was murmuring a series of charms in an attempt to break the spell that sealed it shut. Well, Remus thought distantly, he could help. He knew the spell. He just hadn’t had the strength to perform it wandless.

Gasping, he spat out the word she needed to say. Thankfully, Dora was pretty quick on the uptake. Remus was certain he wouldn’t have been able to repeat himself. Moody, still on guard, shot one of Greyback’s favourite lackeys with a stunner and hissed once more at Tonks to hurry up. A series of irritated snarls reached Remus’s ears.

Tonks yanked on his less damaged arm, pulling him out of the cage and into some imitation of standing posture. Moody shot another curse before setting a broom to levitate next to Tonks. Remus noted that Tonks swung herself on, even as she kept a hand wrapped around his upper arm to stabilize him. Moody scooped Remus up, ungainly around the waist, and put him down behind Dora. Automatically, Remus wrapped his arms as best he could around her as she took off. He hoped Mad-Eye was following ok. He hoped he wouldn’t pass out and fall off.

Tonks cursed and Remus glanced down, seeing a wolf who was no friend of his dragging a knife down the length of her calf. He swung his leg out with as much effort as he could muster, kicking the man in the jaw. It gave them enough space for Tonks to raise her broom up out of reach. Remus realized the few werewolves still in possession of wands were shooting a series of erratic curses at them. He clung to Dora dizzily as she jerked around in an effort to dodge them. Mad-Eye must have been close behind, because he cast a shield around them, it glimmered green in the early morning.

Then Remus faded out.

When he woke again it was to the sound of hushed arguing. He couldn’t bear to open his eyes. The wave of pain that hit him was worse than any of his many previous experiences with injury. The voices were Nymphadora and Alastor, he recognized, relieved. Nobody else seemed to be near. They were arguing over whether it would be safe to side-along apparate with Remus.

“Yes,” Remus croaked, forcing his eyes open, “apparate.”

He sort of landed on his feet, but only for an instant before he fell flat onto his face. The grass and dirt smelled of life. He felt small, soft hands on his shoulder, and the back of his neck. Smelled a warm, vanilla scent. Molly.

_Oh, Molly,_ he thought ridiculously, _Thank Merlin for Molly._

“Oh, Remus,” she whispered, “Let’s get you as patched up as we can, shall we?”

He was levitated onto some sort of stretcher. It was mildly less painful then the ground. He opened his eyes briefly, but everything surrounding him was blurry, so he closed them again. He was enveloped in warmth as they entered the Burrow. He was settled into what he figured must have been the sitting room couch. He lost consciousness once more.

On waking, Remus felt slightly less like death. He was greeted by the grizzled face of Alastor Moody, leaning over him so closely that Remus could not see anything beyond. 

“What did they get?” Moody snarled.

Remus tried to speak, then stopped to clear his throat. Molly squeezed in next to Mad-Eye and lifted Remus up a little so he could sip from the water glass she held against his lips.

On trying again, Remus whispered, “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” Moody looked highly doubtful. “I would like to verify that! We’re waiting on Dumbledore- he’s to bring the pensieve.” 

Remus inclined his head so far as his stiff muscles would allow, “Take them.” 

Moody placed his wand against Remus’s forehead and pulled out a thread of silvery memories. Remus could hear the door open and Albus’s voice waft in. He was promptly distracted, however, as Tonks shoved Moody out of the way, snapping, “You’ve got it then, go on!”

She’d been crying, tracks of tears running through the grime coating her cheeks. As Remus attempted to give her a weak smile, she broke down, laying her head to his chest and sobbing viciously. Remus couldn’t tell her it was causing him pain.

Molly, rather than leave the room as Remus thought most well mannered people would do, pulled up a chair next to the one Dora had collapsed onto and wrapped one arm around the other woman, while beginning to stroke Remus’s hair with her free hand. In a soft tone, she explained to Remus that Tonks had gotten word (from a confidential source) of his position, how she and Moody had been able to rescue him. She assured him that the injuries Tonks and Moody received were minor, and easily healed once she had taken care of those injuries of Remus’s that she was able to heal with varying degrees of success. His right arm, she said, had been dislocated as well as experienced a broken radius which had pierced right through his skin. He’d received cursed burns to several areas of his body, including the left side of his scalp. He might have a few more scars, including one from a slicing jinx across that ran from his right jawline across the bridge of his nose, Molly informed. But, for the most part he would heal up just fine within a couple of days.

Remus shot her a grateful look as he raised his left hand to rest of the back on Dora’s head, which was shuddering with the force of her tears. Molly pressed a kiss to his cheek before standing and leaving the younger couple alone.

“Dora,” Remus whispered.

She didn’t reply, beyond beginning to sob all the harder. 

~~~


	14. Determinations

Tonks, as soon as she’d calmed herself enough, borrowed the Weasley family’s sadly battered old owl to send a note. She’d have to hope none of red-headed Gryffindors (or Hermione- she was the particularly keen one of the group, after all) noticed it dropping a letter off at the Slytherin table during breakfast. Post time was usually such a melee chances they would recognize it were fairly low, she reasoned before flinging Errol into the sky as if she were push starting a car on the fritz.

She’d kept the note minimal, just in case it was intercepted.

_Saved him. Thank you._

When she returned to Remus, he gave her about five minutes. It was, in combination with the time she had spent crying on him Tonks guessed, the amount of time it took Remus to feel reasonably stable in his ability to remain conscious.

Tonks sat on the floor next to the couch rather than the chair, which she shoved unceremoniously out of her way. She pressed a kiss to Remus’s cheek and held fast to his hand. 

“Rem… you were right; I didn’t really understand how it is.” She studied his face carefully as she continued, “Alastor and I were there for most of last night. It was…awful. I think it’s important you know… I understand. I do,” her voice wavered a little. “And it doesn’t change anything for me.” 

Several emotions flickered across Remus’s face. Tonks was not able to name a single one of them.

Finally, he replied, “Dora… I feel terrible.”

It was the tone of his voice, ragged in its raspiness though it was, that tipped her off.

She tilted her head to the side, eyes flashing, “feel guilty?” she scathed.

She observed coldly as Remus’s eyes widened slightly, his lips fell apart in a little o. A distant part of her felt like screaming, tearing at him, making a scene. She heard one of the Weasleys softly close the door between the living room and the kitchen to allow them some privacy. But she didn’t need it. The noisy, devastated, angry part of her had been pushed out of the way in favour of a icy ruthlessness.

Her response was out of step with her past actions, she knew. She’d been steadfastly loving and understanding. Well, with the exception of yelling at him that little bit over Christmas, she supposed. But otherwise she had reiterated her love over and over. And then she had given him her understanding about it all. That he wasn’t in a place to accept it. That all she would get were these tastes of what it might be like to be together. Those moments when Remus considered himself too damned _‘weak’_ to stay away. She was sick of this no man’s land. Of welcoming him back so eagerly, so pathetically. She had thought she would lose him for good today, that there would be no more fleeting moments of happiness. And yet, he didn’t have the decency to give her even an hour of damned time before he pushed her away.

Pulling herself to her feet so that she towered over Remus, who looked so vulnerable prone on the couch, she said in an even, chilled tone, “You should. You _should_ feel guilty. I love you _so much_. I have been vulnerable with you. I have fought for you… for you to understand I am serious. And you…” She ran her hands through her hair, not realizing it had turned a flaming red, “You just throw it back in my face like it is meaningless. Like I am an ignorant child. Clearly, you don’t think I am worth anything. So I am done.”

As she headed towards the door to the kitchen, she paused a moment, then turned. “You would have died, today. If it weren’t for me.”

Closing the door behind her, Tonks began to tremble. She saw Molly’s worried brown eyes dart between Tonks and the doorway, a silent question. Tonks shook her head brusquely and strode out of the Burrow until she was past the wards and able to apparate away.

~~~ 

Remus had pulled himself to his feet to follow her. He ignored Molly as he wobbled out into the yard and watched her dissapparate. Then he’d stumbled and fallen onto his hands and knees. Later, he would feel regretful for snapping at Molly when she came to help him back up. At present, he just wanted to be left alone in the brisk morning air.

Eventually, Arthur came out to talk to him. He flopped his long legs out before him and leaned back on his hands. Casually he said, “Molly has order me to instruct you to get your stubborn arse back inside before you catch the cold that will finally push you over the edge into your grave.”

Remus grunted. He’d been contemplating the benefits of Hogwart’s house system. Pulling that musty hat down onto his head was one of his most vivid memories. He’d jumped a little when he spoke not to him but _inside_ his mind. The hat had whispered _“Gryffindor will do quite nicely for you, I believe.”_  Remus had begged it to consider Ravenclaw, or Hufflepuff. Remus, at age eleven, felt he had a pretty strong understanding of himself. He was shy, he was smart, he worked hard and he stuck to his values. He was not brave. He was not noble. How could he possibly be? He was a monster, after all. The hat had just about given in to Remus’s begging when Sirius, whom Remus had cautiously befriended on the train, caught Remus’s eye from under the hat. He gave him a thumbs up and that ruthlessly cocky grin. Remus had sighed internally and thought, “ _Ok, if you think Gryffindor.”_

It was clearly ridiculous to sort children into various houses based on personality attributes. Personalities, while perhaps somewhat designated at birth, were also very fluid. Especially throughout adolescence. Dora, for example, was an idol of bravery. But she was also steadfast and patient and loyal. She could assess a situation and determine a course of action faster than a bolt of lightening. She could have done brilliantly in any house.

Remus turned to Arthur and frowned. “That pain potion has made me strangely philosophical.” He couldn’t remember what exactly the point of analyzing the house system was supposed to have been. “I’ve gone and fucked it all up quite nicely, Arthur.”

“Maybe,” Arthur grabbed his friend’s hand and pulled him to his feet, “But you’re in no state to do much one way or the other about it.”

~~~ 


	15. Progressions

Tonks raced up the stone steps of the castle, her hands slapped the ground harshly as she tripped onto the first landing.

“Miss Tonks,” Dumbledore greeted softly, pulling her to her feet. “Calm yourself, he will be just fine.”

“What do you _mean_?” She gasped, whirling to continue her journey as soon as she’d regained her footing. “You sent me a letter in the middle of the night saying I’d best come up to the bloody _Hospital Wing_ to see him!” 

“Young Mr. Malfoy was on the receiving end of a curse from Mr.Potter, I’m afraid,” Dumbledore explained in an obscene way Tonks could only describe as mildly regretful. Like how you’d tell a story about your eight-year-old grieving their elderly gold fish’s death and subsequent flushing to a colleague. Not at all an appropriate way to speak of what sounded like a nearly deadly duel between two young men. At least the old bat was keeping up with her as she raced up the next set of stairs. Tonks was hardly inclined to wait up for the man.

“Mr. Potter used a curse he had found scrawled in the margins of an old text and he was unaware of the outcome, most unwise I’m afraid,” Dumbledore continued. “The curse caused large lacerations across Mr.Malfoy’s torso. Luckily Severus was nearby and had some knowledge of this peculiarly rare curse and was able to perform the counter immediately and rapidly brought Mr. Malfoy into the care of Madam Pomfrey. He needs to spend a few days in her care, perhaps. He has received blood replenishers and some pain potions. I imagined that you might like to see him”

Stopping short of the long wooden doors to the Hospital Wing, Tonks turned to face the Headmaster. Compassion filled his bright eyes. She sighed heavily.

“Yes, thank you Professor.”

As she crept into the wing, lit only by thin strains of moonlight eking their way in from the windows, Tonks felt her fortitude waver. Sometimes she felt as though this whole war, serious though it may be, was just absurd. Boys fighting over school yard grudges.

Draco lay asleep, the sole occupant of the ward. He looked a little grey and there were bandages wrapped around his bare torso. Tonks noted that a pristine bandage wrapped around his left forearm as well. A dim light flickered from Madam Pomfrey’s office towards the back of the room. Tonks quietly cast a silencing charm before pulling up a chair and sitting next to Draco.

She’d sat, feet tucked underneath her, long enough to find her limbs falling asleep when Draco woke.

“Tonks?” He croaked, sounding weary. It did not miss her attention that he glanced quickly towards his left arm and sighed a little on seeing it covered. 

“Drake,” she whispered, “Hey. How are you feeling?”

He chuckled darkly, “Been better. Madam Pomfrey assures me I will have some very sexy scars after this, though.”

“Glad you’re looking for the silver lining,” Tonks replied wryly as she helped him with a glass of water.

“How’d you know?” He asked when she drew away. 

Tonks shrugged. She certainly wasn’t going to tell the truth. “You get some connections when you spend all year patrolling the grounds.”

Draco seemed to accept that well enough. He stared up at the roof for a long moment before saying, “You know, Potter found me crying to _Moaning Fucking Myrtle._ ”

Tonks hissed sympathetically.

“I almost wish he _had_ killed me. The most humiliating moment of my life. I mean, I’ve ugly cried in your presence, I suppose. But Moaning Myrtle is the most obnoxious sycophant to have ever walked these hallowed halls.”

Snickering, Tonks replied, “I’ve cried to Myrtle too. Over some prat who definitively wasn’t worth it. In fact, I think you would be surprised if you knew how many people have sobbed to Myrt’s sadistic pleasure.” Draco managed a weak smile. “I figure you were crying for a much better reason than Connor Laine.”

Clearly becoming uncomfortable, Draco smoothly diverted the conversation, “How’s the mutt?”

“Alive. Thanks.”

Picking up on her curt tone, Draco asked, “still not come around then?”

It had been a week since Tonks and Mad Eye’s desperate rescue mission. She hadn’t spoken to anyone involved since. Molly was bound to send a howler her way if she didn’t reply to any of her owls soon. Tonks was just busy working on pushing it all down enough to keep functioning each day. 

“No. I… I saw some awful shit that night though, Draco. And now I do understand. Not that he even gave me a chance to explain.”

Draco bristled a little, pulling himself up and valiantly trying to hide his grimace of pain from Tonks. He stared her dead in the eyes and said, “His loss, the tosser.”  Draco followed the sentiment by describing Remus using the most disturbingly colourful string of expletives Tonks had ever heard. Which was truly saying something, considering she worked in a field largely filled with crass men’s men. It warmed her heart.

“Thanks,” She said in a small voice.

“Anytime,” Draco replied proudly. 

For the five nights that Draco spent in the Hospital Wing, Tonks came up to visit Draco after curfew- so as to maintain the secrecy of their relationship. After the first night Draco insisted he didn’t really _need_ to be in the hospital wing, and so Tonks ought to help him get some use out of his forced quarantine by teaching him how to cast a patronus. It took him three nights before he could cast something that had any degree of corporeal form. While Draco deemed this to be an unacceptable length of time and marked it as a failure, Tonks was actually rather impressed. Considering that Draco had spent most of the last year in a rather desperate situation, he’d been able to make fair progress on a spell that not only needed a solid happy memory but a serious amount of inner fortitude.

When, on Draco’s last night on the ward and after binging on candies, a silvery fox finally sprang to life when Draco attempted the spell, the two of them burst out screaming and jumped around the room. Tonks thanked her lucky stars that her silencing charm held up to it all. She gave Draco a tight hug before heading back to the Hog’s Head that night. Tonks had a sense that opportunities to see her cousin again would be few and far between when school let out for the year. The war was undeniably progressing, in the way of most things, more and more quickly. It had the feeling of an impending avalanche; just enough moving parts about to line up in just the right way to cause a ruthless rush of events with the potential to wipe out everything in its path.

~~~

 

After a solid couple of weeks of recovery under the demanding ministrations of Molly Weasley, Remus decided the best course of action was a letter. He ruined several sheaves of parchment before settling on something that seemed at least partially acceptable.

_Nymphadora,_

_I heard that Draco was seriously injured in a duel with Harry. I was horrified to hear it on many levels. I hope he is ok. I suspect I owe him a thank you, please pass it along on my behalf if you are so inclined._

_I am so sorry I have hurt you._

_Remus_

He had considered including something that acknowledged the amount of anguish he felt about the way they had parted, but determined in the end that wouldn’t be fair. Truly, he should have simply left her alone. He should have accepted her walking out that door as the end. It was, after all, what he had wanted. But he couldn’t leave it at that. She had to know he was sorry, at least

~~~


	16. Entaglement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short little one. It didn't fit well with the section following. It is the first from Draco's perspective! There will be just a handful of scenes from his perspective before the end of the story.

Draco let out a whoop of delight. Finally, _finally_ , he had succeeded in fixing the damned cabinet.

Then, suddenly, he deflated. He glanced around the room, packed to the rafters with evidence of secrets and shame from throughout the ages of Hogwarts. Was any of it this terrible, he wondered. He bet Granger would have been able to rattle off a laundry list of all the more disturbing moments of the school’s history. Once Draco signalled to the other Death Eaters that the cabinet was open, though, the whole population of the school would be at risk. This was not about just killing the old, bumbling headmaster- if he was being true with himself, Draco wasn’t too keen on that, either- Death Eaters would put everyone, innocent _kids_ , at risk. Draco thought of how indescribably horrified he felt after Bell was hurt. And Weasley, much as he disliked the prat. He thought of Tonks spending every evening for a week with him in the hospital wing, teaching him the patronus charm, and felt disgusting. He was no better than those petty con artists that filled up Diagon Alley over the last year, selling fake protection to people.

Heaving a sigh, he sat himself on a pile of illicit books. As much as he’d come to care for Tonks, as much as he wanted to take her up on her offers to help him, he couldn’t turn his back on his parents. Shortly after the Dark Lord’s return, before most people even believed it was true, Draco had overheard his parents arguing. He’d listened around a dim corner of their expansive home, feeling not at all badly about trying to figure out what the fuck was going on and how it would affect him. Narcissa had pleaded with Lucius to think of Draco, to keep Draco safe. Lucius had snapped at her, “That is _exactly_ why I am doing this!”

While Draco had never had a comfortable relationship with his father- he had never been able to figure out quite how to relate to him beyond recognizing Lucius’s social and financial powers and leveraging it to suit his own needs, as any Slytherin worth their salt would- Draco knew now that his father actually did _care_. It was hard for Draco to not feel a little bitter about it all, given that his father had landed himself in jail and left Draco to be forced into this accursed suicide mission. But Lucius cared. And Draco cared too. He cared about Lucius. And more than anything, he cared about his mom.

His mother had always, without fail been there for him. When Draco had come home at the end of first year, bitterly disappointed that he was second in class to _muggleborn_ Hermione Granger and that Harry Potter and his trollish friends had stolen the house cup at the last minute, his mom had built Draco back up. Believed in him. When Draco had realized Pansy Parkinson was not for him and was having trouble making it clear to her, Draco’s mom had owled him right back, in the middle of the night with advice and -what Draco thought was _mostly_ a joke- an offer to send a howler Pansy’s way.  She had arrived at the Hogwarts hospital wing within a minute of learning of his injury earlier in the month. Narcissa had fought with her husband over his role in the Death Eaters for Draco’s sake. 

No, as much as Tonks might be one of the three people Draco genuinely cared about in his life, he could not choose her over his parents.

Maybe, though, he could do something to help her a little. In consideration of how much she’d helped him. He cast a disillusionment charm and headed back to his common room. He’d just send a little note out. He battled with himself as he headed into the dungeons, trying to determine how much he could tell her. In the end, he decided that he couldn’t share anything beyond a hint to pull together some extra people on patrol duty as soon as she could. Anything more and it would be obvious that someone had leaked information. Draco couldn’t risk that.

He hoped the note would be enough. That no one innocent would be hurt. That Tonks would survive the night. Selfishly, he hoped more than anything that she would forgive him.

~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter, but hope you all enjoy! In grad school atm, so the next chapter will be a little ways away likely. Second week of November is reading week and I'm hoping to take advantage and make it writing week, so a new chapter or two should show up around then!


	17. Juncture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is some speech in this chapter directly taken from the corresponding scene in HBP, all credit to JKR.

Tonks sent a patronus to Dumbledore immediately. On arrival at the castle she raced up the moving steps to Dumbledore’s office, trembling slightly. Remus, Bill, and a handful of Hogwarts faculty were already there. Albus briefed them and sent everyone on their way, to attend to their assigned circuits of hallway.

“Tonks…” Lupin voiced hesitantly on the steps down from Dumbledore’s office.

She gave him a tight smile, “Remus, it’s fine. We’ve more important things to worry about.”

He nodded nervously.

“Keep yourself safe, Rem.”

She turned and rushed off to her patrol area, pushing the interaction as deep away as she could in order to keep sharp this evening. 

Dumbledore had not shared with anyone else the warning that Draco had given her. He had stressed the likelihood of an attempt on the castle this evening and the need to protect the students. Everyone was certainly tense, but Tonks was caught in more of a foreboding sense of doom.

The fighting, when it began, was sudden. Shouts from the Weasleys’ echoing down the hall. Thundering footsteps approaching. She and Remus nearly ran into each other in their attempts to find the commotion. And then- curses, jinxes and counters began flying.

In the melee, a calm detachment settled in next to Tonks’s bones. She felt comfortable in a good fight. Her dad had always referred to the sensation as “flow”, muggle hippie that he was. She felt power coursing through her as she shot jinxes this way and that. She noticed Draco fly past, looking terrified. She shot a silent protection charm his way. It didn’t appear that he had noticed her in the mess. After he slipped out of view, she turned attention back to the fight. 

Things were beginning to look rather grim. The Death Eaters seemed prepared to fight to the death. While they were having bad luck in landing their curses, a killing curse very nearly hit its mark on Remus, skimming just past him to land on a Death Eater instead. Greyback had flown bodily at Bill and taken him down gruesomely before racing up the stairs to the tower along with a handful of others. Neville tried to pursue but was thrown back violently by an invisible force.

Tonks caught Lupin’s eye after he glanced desperately at Bill, both knowing they could not afford to stop to give aid. They were fighting alongside Ron, Ginny and Neville and needed to protect the young wizards before anything else. Snape raced by and she scarcely noticed.

She couldn’t have said how much time passed before Draco and Snape ran back down the stairs and past them again, shouting, drawing the attention of both friends and foes. This time though, she was certain Draco had noticed her and was taking care to avoid looking her way. The rest of the Death Eaters that had been on the tower followed suit, and shortly after- Harry. The surreal pause that had come with Draco and Snape’s return ended and fighting began again viciously, now with their opponents fighting to clear a course out of the castle. 

Tonk’s wasn’t sure what it was that Snape had commanded, but she was certain it did not bode well. Voldemort’s lackeys had come tonight with a purpose. And they hadn’t seemed prepared to leave until their mission had been fulfilled.

She pursued as long as she could, lungs burning. Lupin called her back as she hit the top of the stairs to the hall, watching capes flying out the door to the grounds. Flitwick and McGonagall were maintaining pursuit. Tonks turned and ran back up the many flights until she reached Neville, helping him to his feet. Ginny ducked under Neville’s other side for support. Lupin and Ron picked up Bill, Ron with tears streaking down his face. Together, they dragged themselves to the Hospital Wing. Poppy Pomfrey was ready, brisk and efficient, directing them to beds and summoning potions and tinctures.

The room was silent beyond Pomfrey’s occasional direction. At some point Hermione and Luna Lovegood joined them and Ginny slipped away.

When Harry entered some time later, everyone turned, alert as a herd of prey animals.

Ron and Lupin conjectured about Bill’s future, wanting guidance from Dumbledore. Ginny who had trailed back into the room behind Harry shared the news. Dead.

He was dead.

Harry’s face said it all.

Remus collapsed into himself. Tonks felt her skin go pale, when she had time to reflect on it later, she guessed her hair had gone grey too. She forced herself to ask the question everyone else was too frightened to ask.

“How did he die? How did it happen?”

As she listened to Harry describe what had happened she felt anger welling up in her. Snape. Snape… and Draco. She had trusted Snape because Dumbledore had trusted Snape. She had trusted Draco based on her gut. Her heart.

Minerva, Ron, Hermione all started taking blame. Tonk’s felt her stomach fold in on itself over and over. Really, it was her fault more than anyone’s.

When Harry traced Snape’s passage to the fighting that Tonks was involved in, she was pulled back to focus. Taking a shuddering breath, she averted her eyes from Remus and stepped in to explain what she had witnessed, conscious of using ‘The Malfoy boy’ to describe Draco. She wouldn’t have used his first name anyhow, but adding ‘boy’ at the end gave her a small sense of vindication, detachment from her cousin.  Small grace, in a twisted way, that Malfoy hadn’t killed Albus in the end. It had been Snape after all. If Snape hadn’t stepped in as Harry said, would Draco have done it? Tonks felt like retching.

Molly and Arthur raced into the room, followed by Fleur. The cold dread within Tonks sank in even deeper. She watched Fleur carefully. Bill was a good friend to her. When Fleur began to yell at Molly, Tonks shattered. It was all too much. As the tension between the women snapped, as they hugged and grieved together, she turned to Remus.

She felt as though the grief within her was made up of a thousand sharp edges, jangling loosely. No longer was anything holding her together. 

“You see!” she squeaked out. “She still wants to marry him, even though he’s been bitten! She doesn’t care!” 

Remus was wound tight, face nearly paralyzed as he responded. Tonks barely registered what he said to her. She grabbed on to his robes and shook him, desperately wanting him to feel as jangled as she did. Instead, he reiterated the same tired responses. Molly scolded him. Arthur gently challenged him. Minerva snapped at him about what Dumbledore would have wanted to see. And Hagrid walked in and interrupted.

Maybe it was reaching, but Tonks thought something shifted in Remus’s expression.

                                                                                                                ~~~                                      

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the patience everyone! Christmas break is coming up, should hopefully be able to post more during that time.


	18. Reconciliation

She was down at Hagrid’s cottage, working some charms to preserve the foundation of their friend’s smouldering home. She’d fled the hospital wing shortly after confronting him. Fang whined as Remus approached.

Tonks didn’t turn.

Remus began to work alongside her, clearing away unsalvageable debris.

“Dora,” he said after a while.

She glanced sideways towards him.

“You’re right.”

She turned back to her work, brows raised slightly.

“And Molly. And Arthur. And Minerva. And- and Sirius. And I am sorry.”

She turned to face him full on, looking desperately hopeful. God, she was beautiful.

“You almost died today,” she whispered. “ _Again_.”

“I know. And you might well have too. And I love you.” Remus stepped towards her, picking her hand up hesitantly. “Please marry me?” 

Remus had not put a lot of thought into that question prior to asking it. He certainly hadn’t anticipated any particular response. Tonks still managed to surprise him, however. She burst into tears, collapsed into his chest and told Remus to go to hell. 

Once she had calmed, she put her hands on his face and stared fiercely into his eyes. “This is it, Rem. If I say yes to you… this is it. Forever, you hear me?”

“Yes,” Remus replied, forcing every ounce of sincerity he could into the syllable.

They didn’t notice Hagrid shuffling awkwardly away as they embraced.

~~~ 

Pale light filtered in past the drapes of the little room at the Hog’s Head. Tonks pulled away from Remus slightly to get a better look at his face. He was sound asleep, mouth ajar just slightly. His scarred face still had tear tracks from the night previous. He hadn’t cried since first learning about Dumbledore’s death; there just hadn’t been a moment to clean up since then. Tonks and Remus had saved what they could of Hagrid’s hut and stumbled back to the inn. They’d stripped most their dirty clothes off and crawled into bed to hold one another, falling asleep without a word spoken.

The clacking of an owl seeking entry at the window disturbed the quiet. Tonks slid carefully out of bed, casting a glance at Remus’s battered watch on the side table. Half six. They’d slept not quite three hours. She cracked the window and accepted the letter from the no nonsense owl who immediately flew away. Giving it a quick read, she set it down on the table before slipping back into bed. Remus was beginning to stir.

His eyes opened blearily as Tonks wrapped her arms around him. A sweet smile spread across his features, softening the effect of the dirt and tears that remained. He looked almost surprised to find himself in her bed.

“What time is it?” He asked, voice raspy.

“Early yet,” Tonks replied. “Just got an owl from Professor McGonagall. She says all’s well. Everyone’s just trying to catch a bit of sleep at the moment. Asked if we could make our way back up to the castle around eleven.” 

Remus hummed contentedly. “Good, we need a little more time.”

Tonks started to suggest Remus sleep a little longer, he looked so dreadful, but he caught her lips against his own. The passion in his kiss made her dizzy. 

“I missed you,” he said, lips still resting against her own. She replied by rolling on top of him, nuzzling into his neck. 

Being together was different this time. Knowing that Remus was as committed as she had always been made the cliché of becoming one as they slept together feel undeniably true. They were slow and gentle, simply resting merged together. Afterwards, they had a long, hot shower together, helping clean away the despair of the prior night. Tonks twirled a lock of her hair in front of the mirror after wiping away the fog. Sky blue.

~~~ 

When they were tucked back into bed again, shoulders pressed together, and legs tangled, Remus and Dora ate the light meal that had been left by a house elf while they were in the bathroom.

“I should check and see if Aberforth knows,” Tonks said heavily. “And how he is.”

Remus pressed a kiss to the top of her head, heart aching.

“Rem,” she asked, turning wide eyes to him, “we’ll be ok, right?”

He set aside the plate that had been balanced on his thighs and reached for her hand. Weaving their fingers tightly together Remus thought for a moment.

“I hope so,” he replied, wishing he could give her more than that.

She sighed lightly and nestled her head against his shoulder. “Let’s talk about our future,” she said softly.

“I think we should get married right away,” Remus said with certainty. “I’ve messed around for long enough.” 

His wry tone made her chuckle. “An elopement, maybe?” she asked. “Though, I would like my parents there. I’ve always wanted to wear my mom’s dress.”

“A semi- elopement then,” Remus grinned.

“Sounds wonderful. Where to?”

“There’s a spot I spent some time in with my parents back when I was young…” Remus drifted off wistfully, pulled back from nostalgia when Tonks kissed his cheek.

“That would be lovely,” she said gently. “Almost like having them there. Where is it?” 

“Scotland.” Remus answered. Hesitancy invading, he added, “You really think your parents will be alright with this?”

“I do,” Tonks replied, brows raised.

Remus bent to give her a kiss, hoping it would cover up his remaining doubts.

“There’s one other thing we should discuss. Before we…” His stomach twisted. He felt as though he were trying to tear down the walls he’d built up between them, yet all the while they were regenerating faster than ever.

“Yes, love?” Dora asked, sitting up and turning to face him, holding both his hands in her own. 

Remus looked down at the comforter, focusing on its fraying corner. “I don’t want any children. I… I don’t know what effect my…” He couldn’t finish the sentence, throat thick.

Dora scooted closer, placing a hand on his face. “You would want some, though, if you knew it would be safe? That they’d be alright?”

Remus nodded, still unable to meet her eyes. “But we can never know for certain. It’s unheard of.”

“Rem,” Dora replied practically, “now’s not the time for this conversation anyways. I want you regardless. I am going to marry you as soon as I possibly can. The middle of the war is no time for children. And if, sometime down the line we can do some research… if you wanted… we could figure all that out. If it’s not heritable, we could work it out. We could work around full moons.”

“Nymphadora…” Remus finally met her eyes, feeling full of an awful mix of pain and regret and hope.

She silenced him with a reassuring kiss.

A little while later, Nymphadora wrapped tightly in his arms, Remus smiled against her hair.

“Do you remember when you snapped at me for calling you Nymphadora?”

He felt her lips twitch against his bare chest. “Awful name.”

“Well, I was partially lying about why I like to use it.”

She barked out a short laugh, “so you think it’s ugly after all? There’s no resisting the objective truth of it.” 

“No,” Remus dragged the syllable out. “I do think it’s beautiful. But also… I liked that you would let me get away with using it. I liked that any other man, any auror you work with would risk being maimed, but… you allowed _me_ the privilege of calling you Nymphadora.”

Chuckling softly, Dora pulled away to raise a brow at him. “Don’t get too arrogant there,” she warned.

“Hmmm,” Remus trapped her under his arms, a predatory look in his eyes, “and here I thought you spent the last year trying to boost my ego.” 

Tonks scoffed and swatted at him, though she seemed happy enough as he began to trail kisses down her neck.

                                         ~~~                                      


	19. Bonds

Their small group clustered in McGonagall’s office. It wouldn’t feel right to use Dumbledore’s, not just yet. Tonks let her eyes flicker between each of their grim faces before squeezing Remus’s arm gently and asking, “Shouldn’t Harry be here?”

Remus glanced down at her gratefully.

“He’s not ready,” Minerva replied, her brogue thicker than usual in response to her emotion.

“Aye, Tonks,” Hagrid nodded. “You didn’t see him out on the grounds, with- with…” He broke into tears.

“Alright,” Tonks conceded, feeling her heart turn to a trickle of sand, as if it would drain right out of her. All these broken young men as a result of the war. Remus, Sirius and James back then. Harry, Bill and Draco now. It was ridiculously unfair. 

They got down to business. First, planning for the safety of the students during the short period before they were to return home. Then the management of the Order of the Phoenix moving forward. Lastly, planning Dumbledore’s funeral. They each pushed back their emotions in exchange for efficiency. 

When they were done, Arthur invited them to St. Mungo’s to check in on Bill. Tonks, to whom Bill had long been a friend was eager to do so. Remus suggested that Arthur go ahead, indicating that he and Tonks needed to swing by the inn first. 

Tonks had checked on Aberforth before they’d headed up to the castle. Minerva had already been to see him, told him of the news. Tonks suspected the poor woman hadn’t had a wink of rest yet. Aberforth was taking the news just how Tonks had guessed he would- with a significant amount of rage directed at Albus. He’d then locked himself in his office. On returning to the inn, Tonks knocked but received no reply.

“Abe?” She called out, waiting a moment in the silence of the dark hall. Then she said, “I’m off to St. Mungo’s. Be home in a little while.”

With a heavy sigh she turned back to Remus and headed up to her room for a moment’s break before heading to see Bill.

As the door closed behind them, Remus wrapped her tightly in his arms. Tonks let out a sob, feeling heavy.

“Dora, dear,” Remus said gently. “How are you doing?”

It was clear to her that he meant with regards to Draco. Draco’s actions, more specifically.

“I wanted so badly to save him.” She collapsed under the weight of her tears. For several long minutes she was unable to breathe through the sobbing. Remus held her tightly.

Finally, she pulled away slightly, scrubbing her face with her arm.

“But he didn’t do it,” she said. “He didn’t kill him.”

“No, he didn’t.” Remus met her eyes steadily.

That was the thing about Remus. When he wasn’t trying to fight his own nature through a sense of martyrdom, he was steady. So steady. So reliable. God, she loved him.

“But now…” She couldn’t grasp the words.

“Now he’s with them.” 

She nodded, sensing Remus’s perfect understanding. Draco was with the Death Eaters. He was with them and he hadn’t killed Dumbledore as instructed. Sure, he’d let them into the castle. Sure, Dumbledore was dead. But was it enough to keep him safe? She didn’t know. More so, she was fairly certain he wouldn’t be able to do anything else that was requested of him by You-Know-Who. And with things turning the way they were… he wasn’t going to be able to extricate himself. She could only hope that he’d keep his head down.

~~~ 

Remus hated St. Mungo’s like no other place. He’d spent some weeks here on a special ward as a child, after his attack. He hated the smell. That the place was full of shining, clean bed frames and tools, yet grimy in the corners. He hated that it was either deathly quiet, or full of noisy bustle, never in between. He walked into Bill’s room quietly. Molly and Fleur had just left.

Bill, propped up in bed, thick paste covering the wounds to his face, gave a little wave. The curtains were drawn against the late afternoon and the room had a greenish light. Remus settled into a chair next to the bed, biting his lip anxiously.

“How are you?”

Bill shrugged nonchalantly. “Alright. Just a little scratch. Though…” he added with a wry tone, “they can’t just heal it right up with magic. It’ll take a few months to turn into a proper, closed up scar. Just as if I’d been a muggle in a knife fight.”

Remus chuckled darkly, “I’m sure if that were the case, Fleur would’ve dealt with you quite differently. What did they say about the effects of it?”

With a small smile Bill replied, “They don’t think it’ll lead to any major concerns. Maybe a little more irritability round the time of the moon. No historical evidence to suggest I might get violent or anything…” 

Remus felt a rush of understanding as the young man trailed off. “The first one,” he suggested, “perhaps we could tackle together. In separate, locked rooms, of course. But we have enough time to brew up some wolfsbane for me. I know Pomona’s managed to grow some aconite with me in mind. And then you could be somewhere safe until you know for sure.”

Bill nodded, eyes deep in thought. “Thank you, Remus. You’re a good man.”

Rubbing his neck uncomfortably, Remus looked away. 

“Fleur told me about Tonks,” Bill added quietly.

Remus looked back, unable to resist smiling. “We’re going to get married. Against my better judgement, I suppose. But… I’m so damned happy about it.”

Bill grinned a moment before it turned into more of a pained grimace as the wounds across his face stretched. “Forget your better judgement, Lupin. Tonks’s got enough good judgement for the two of you anyhow. I know… I know it’s not the same, the two of you as for me and Fleur. But you deserve to be happy.”

~~~ 

“’ello Nymphadora,” Fleur’s musical voice broke through Tonks’s reverie. She realized she’d not been paying attention to the coffee she’d  been pouring and had spilled all over the counter. With a sigh she cast a cleaning charm and shot Fleur a look of apology.

“How are you Fleur? How is Bill? I thought maybe it would be good for Remus to check in on him before I joined in… And to be honest, I just really needed some bloody coffee first. I- I’m so sorry.”

Laughing lightly Fleur wrapped her arms around Tonks and stayed there a few too many beats for their actual level of acquaintance. Tonks would never have imagined herself being able to relate with a woman like Fleur Delacour. But, Tonks supposed, there are some things in life you can’t share without ending up liking each other*; loving  men like Remus and Bill seemed to be one of those things. Anyways, Fleur had an inner fierceness that appealed to Tonks.

“I think you are very brave,” Fleur said through misty eyes. “You must be a Gryffindor  like Bill, non?” 

Tonks chuckled, “No, actually. Hufflepuff: Loyalty and patience.”

Fleur’s lips twisted in amusement, “Ah, I can see those traits as well. Has your man come to ‘ees senses?”

A blush coloured her cheeks as she grinned, “Yes, actually. He asked me to marry him”

“Ah! C’est parfait!” Fleur beamed. “It is through love that we can fight this war.”

Tonks, surprised by how powerfully the statement hit her, took a moment to glance around the hospital cafeteria. Crowded around dirty vinyl top tables were a diversity of people, all showing care for one another in little ways. An older man, rubbing a middle aged woman’s back; a small child kissing his father on the cheek; Arthur with his arm wrapped tightly around Molly as she clutched a plastic mug of tea. 

“They say,” Fleur voiced softly, “that Bill will be just fine. He should not expect any major responses to the moon change. But…”

“His life will never be the same.”

“Non… people, they will be afraid of him.”

“Probably,” Tonks admitted. “I imagine all he truly cares about is whether or not you will be.”

“Never,” Fleur looked appalled at the very concept.

“I know.” Tonks hooked her arm through Fleur’s, clumsily stooped to pick up the two coffee’s she’d poured and gave her new friend a rueful smile. “Let’s go see him.”

~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * You might recognize these lines from Philosopher's Stone. They were originally written by J.K. Rowling, as Harry reflected on his and Ron's new friendship with Hermione post-troll defeat. The rest of the sentence in Philsopher's Stone is something along the lines of 'and knocking out a mountain troll is one of those things'.


	20. Support

“Mom?” Tonks asked, fingers drumming the table. They were sitting at the Tonks’s maple wood kitchen table, nestled in the alcove of a bay window, sunshine streaming in. It was her favourite place in her childhood home, always brought a sense of comfort. Not much could soothe her anxiety at the moment though.

Tonks had, for some obscene and mildly sadistic reason, decided it would be better to have this conversation two separate times rather than just speak to her parents together. About the fact that she was engaged to be married… to a werewolf.

She’d done her best to assure Remus that her parents would be accepting of him. But to be honest, she wasn’t sure. She wasn’t even sure which parent would be the easier one to speak with. Andromeda had been chosen first based solely on the fact that she had met Remus once or twice, back when he and Sirius were fresh out of Hogwarts. Her mom, though, Tonks worried, had a much better sense of the sort of ostracization that associating with a werewolf in the wizarding world would cause. She also had many more years of stigma around it. Ted, at least, being muggleborn would perhaps be less fearful. That said, he tended to over protective. Andromeda knew what it was like for your family to disapprove of your heart’s choices. Perhaps that would temper her reaction.

The length of time she’d been silent since Tonks’s revelation was getting rather disheartening, however.

Finally, Tonks braced herself to look up at her mother. Her brown curls were tied into a messy bun, chocolate eyes surrounded by fine lines, her lips were twisted downwards. All Tonks wanted was to bury herself in the woman’s arms and bawl.

“Dora, my darling…” she reached to hold her daughter’s hand. “Is this why you’ve been so dispirited all these months?”

“I couldn’t not love him, mom.” Tonks said earnestly. “He tried to protect me. But I don’t need protection. And mom… he is so _good_.”

A soft smile lit Andromeda’s face. “I’m happy for you Dora. Don’t think I haven’t noticed that colour in your hair.”

“So you’ll be there? For our wedding?”

At this, Andromeda laughed and stood up, walking around the table to wrap Dora in her arms. “I know what it is like to have your family refuse to celebrate your love with you. And I love _you_ far too much for anything to prevent me from being there for you. All I want is for you to be happy. I won’t lie and say this doesn’t scare me a little. But Dora, dear, _every_ choice you’ve made since you’ve been able to walk has scared me a little. Sometimes a lot. It’s part of what makes your dad and I so proud of you.”

Ted, when she told him later that day had adamantly reserved any reaction until he could meet Remus. Tonks felt this to be a positive thing, certain that Remus could win over her dad rather easily. Remus, when she’d told him, felt the opposite.

~~~

 

Scowling at his reflection, Remus cast a charm to settle his hair into a style that might fit his suit better. The suit was shabby, faded black. Wracking his memory for a moment, Remus was able to come up with a charm to deepen the colour. Thankfully, he hadn’t been friends with someone as vain as James for so long without picking up any tricks.

Finally, he cleared his throat and turned away from the mirror. There was nothing he could do about the scars that marred his face. Hopefully a friendly smile would make up for the reminders that he was a literal monster. 

“Remus,” Tonks chided softly, wrapping her arms around him. “I have an inkling of what might be going through that brilliant mind of yours and I insist you cut it out immediately.”

With a curt nod he picked up a bottle of wine and followed his fiancée to the fireplace.

 

“Bloody hell I hate the floo!” Tonks cursed, giving her head a rub to soothe the spot she’d banged violently against the mantle. Remus held her other elbow for balance, worriedly focused on her and glad for the excuse to delay meeting her parents. “I’m fine, love.” Tonks kissed his cheek and pulled away to shoot her mother an embarrassed smile.

“Every time, Nymphadora,” Andromeda smiled.

With a hearty chuckle, Tonks said, “Mom, you remember Remus.” Then she turned to her father, who was standing just behind his wife, looking reserved. “Dad, this is Remus Lupin. Be nice please.” 

“Lovely to see you after so long, Mrs. Tonks.” Remus held the bottle of wine out as though it were an amulet for protection. “Mr. Tonks, my pleasure to meet you.” As Andromeda took his wine, he shook hands with Ted. 

“Remus, please do not call me Mrs. Tonks.” Andromeda frowned. “If I hadn’t been so desperate to get away from the name Black I wouldn’t have taken such an awful one as Tonks.”

Dora snorted, “Better than _Nymphadora_.”

Remus bit the inside of his cheek, uncertain how to react.

“Remus,” Ted said as they followed his wife into the kitchen and settled around the table, “I hear you taught at Hogwarts for a while.”

“Defense Against the Dark Arts. I enjoyed teaching immensely.”

“Did you now? Good for you. I was a prefect, you know. All the experience taught me was that I would rather farm doxies than teach children.”

“I can say with complete sincerity that doxies are one of my worst fears.” Remus replied, a humorous glint in his eyes. “When I was young, my parent’s attic had an infestation of them. Anytime I crept up there hunting for long forgotten treasures the doxies would swarm and chase me out. Only took a couple of visits before I decided any long lost treasure was more likely to be found in the shed.” 

Ted laughed heartily. Dora reached out beneath the table and gave his thigh a squeeze. 

~~~

Hands trembling, Draco cast a charm to check for interference. He knew who the parchment, small and plain, sealed with a drop of white wax, was from. It glowed a gentle yellow confirming that no one had opened it since it had been sealed. No curse had been sent along with it.

He dropped the letter onto his desk and began to pace the room. It had become rather like a jail, his chamber at the manor. The high roof, framed with crown molding pressing downwards onto him. The deep green drapes constantly pulled close around the tall windows. Paradoxically, considering it was so much larger than his little corner of the Slytherin dorms, it felt terribly oppressive. 

Draco had not been sleeping much. The owl had been sent in the early hours of the morning, likely it was instructed not to deliver alongside any other morning mail. It was good, then, that he had been widely and listlessly awake when it had knocked urgently on the window, dropping its letter and then retreating into the night after he’d opened the pane. 

That awful night he’d made it home safely enough, accompanied by Snape. Then he had been punished to such a degree that he preferred to push it to the furthest reaches of his psyche. He’d blacked out the mirror in his bathroom rather than look into it. Someone, he assumed his mother, had changed him into his pajamas after the event and he’d not yet changed out of them. He was unsure whether it was fear of the pain that the movements dressing would elicit or fear of seeing his naked skin that kept him from changing. It had been four days, though, and he knew he could not stay in his room tomorrow. He needed to keep up appearances if he were to get by.

With a deep breath, he walked back to the desk and slit the seal of the letter.

_Meet where we first met. Same day and time._

Closing his eyes in relief, Draco allowed himself a moment to memorize the messy script before setting fire to the letter. She hadn’t written him off entirely.

~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such slow updates! I promise I will get through to the end at some point within the next few months. I have the epilogue completed... just not all the in between!


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